Love carries a heavy price when it comes and dwells inside our heart. We feel such joy for a while, such unbelievable joy. The world is brighter, our thoughts happier, our step is lighter. We believe for a period of time we can be whatever we strive to become. We believe we will always be accepted, appreciated, respected, until the day comes when we are not.

We are told, ” I am too busy to care, too busy to give, too selfish to receive anything from you I do not need or like.” It matters not that the gift came from your heart, and you made it with your hands because you wanted to uplift, inspire, give beauty to those you care about.

And so, we awaken to the reality of what is. We stare in shock, than shame, and later anger that the gift of ourselves  that we gave with such joy means nothing. That who we are as a person means nothing. The tears come, and with it, the wailing of a broken-heart who believed again in love that could not last or never really was. The grief comes and we are filled by it. The grief shatters us like delicate glass thrown against a brick wall, leaving little behind that resembles what we once had or was. We pick up the pieces like  old people weighed down by the passing of time. And we put away our dreams, our hopes , and we learn to walk away because it is the only way we can keep a shadow of our self-respect. Love has a price and it is pain.  Yu/stan/kema.