Love returns to you today

 Love returns to you today.

Not loudly.

Not in the way the world expects things to return.

But softly… like it never truly left.

There are mornings when grief feels heavier than memory.

When the silence feels too exact.

Too shaped like you.

And then, without warning…

something shifts.

Not outside.

Inside.

A gentleness moves through the heart like a familiar breath.

And I realize…

it is still here.

Love didn’t disappear when you did.

It only stepped back into a quieter form.

Today, I felt it in the light on the floor.

The same place you used to stretch yourself out, sighing like the world finally made sense there.

I felt it in the way my hand paused mid-air…

right where your head used to rest.

As if memory and presence overlapped for just a moment too real to ignore.

Grief used to feel like an ending.

Now it feels more like a doorway I didn’t know I was standing inside.

On one side… absence.

On the other… something softer learning how to exist.

I still miss you in the small ways that never stop surprising me.

The second bowl that still makes my hand hesitate.

The sound I imagine before I realize it’s only wind.

The quiet expectation that used to belong to you.

But today…

those moments didn’t break me the way they used to.

They opened me.

And in that opening…

I felt you differently.

Not as something gone.

But as something returning in every place love still has permission to exist.

Maybe that’s what healing really is.

Not letting go…

But letting love find new ways to reach us.

I don’t know where you are in the way people try to define it.

But I know where you are in me.

In the steadiness that slowly replaced panic.

In the warmth that arrives without explanation.

In the calm that doesn’t ask for proof.

And I think…

if love has a direction…

it always finds its way back.

Not to the past.

Not to the pain.

But to the place where it was never truly lost.

So today I don’t only remember you.

I receive you.

In every quiet moment that doesn’t hurt as sharply as before.

In every breath that feels just a little more like peace than longing.

In every space where love quietly says…

“I am still here.”

And somehow…

so are you.