Love did not come when I searched the world for it. Love did not meet me in the middle.
Love found me when I had given up searching for it and stopped welcoming it.
Love knocked on the door, and when I did not answer, love found another way in.
Love picked the locks and found its way through the dark, long after I had shut the lights off and closed the blinds.
Love had to walk on cracked floorboards and stumble over piles of old boxes.
Love had to roam empty halls and tear down white walls before it found me;
And then it did just that. It found me;
Holed up in a room so cold and dark that his warmth and his light nearly blinded me.
It terrified me. I had never seen anything so beautiful, so dedicated and strong.
I did not trust Love. I did not trust myself. I went to great lengths to make Love run and leave me to die on my own. But Love did not run. Love clung to me tighter. Love extended his hand, again, despite his better judgement and fear. Love made it clear that he would not break.
That he would not stray. That he would fight for me and my life. That he believed in me.
Love showed me how to love. Love showed me how to live and breath and fight.
Love held my hand and we walked out of the fire, together.
Love and I. We rose from the ashes.
He and I. Love and Love.