I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Like I’m breathing more than just air. I’ve been like that lately, breathing has become more than just a bodily reflex. Breathing, the most basic of human instincts, has become an act that I cherish. Like every single second I am happy to be breathing. Happy to be alive. I don’t know what this is, but I think I’ve heard people call it happiness. Hmm.
As soon as I make this realisation, fear starts to creep in. My good old friend fear. I take another deep breath, as if to inhale as much of this “happiness” as I can before fear says anything.
Then she starts.
“So you’re happy, huh?” she starts with a smirk.
I don’t know what to say to her, because I’m not even sure what this word means, let alone if it’s what I’m feeling. I take another deep breath and fear starts to laugh.
“I’m right here, darling.” She cooes. “I’ll always be riiiiiight here.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. I know she’s right, but there’s something different this time. She’s not as loud and smug as she usually is. Hmm. I get curious. I breathe again, but this time I watch her as I inhale. What’s that? Did I see her flinch? Wow. She doesn’t seem so huge any more. This is definitely a foreign feeling.
“Hi.” I hear a voice behind me and I turn. Confidence! Is that you? “Why don’t you go talk to her?” I’m puzzled. Talk to who? “You keep breathing her in, usually with your eyes closed…. Why don’t you talk to her? Ask her name, at least.” Confidence has a good point. I sit and wonder, and keep breathing. A part of me wants to look at fear, because she always has something to say. I’m surprised she hasn’t interrupted confidence’s suggestion. But I resist, and look to confidence. Then I close my eyes.
“Hi,” I practically blush as I face happiness. She’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt, and most of me is still sure she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a wreck like me.
“Hi,” she smiles at me, the warmest smile I’ve ever seen. Wow. She definitely pities me. Fear starts to laugh, but confidence nudges me on.
“Umm,” I scratch the back of my head. “Who are you?”
The most beautiful sound in the world erupts from her, and the sweetest calm washes over me. “I’m whatever you want me to be, Deeee. But most people call me Love. I’ve been looking for you.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Me? She’s been looking for me??! Love?!?! What in the world would she want me for? What in ten worlds would I even have to offer her? I heard people feel love from their hearts, but mine has been derelict and broken for quiiiite a while now. Whoa. What am I going to do? I don’t even know what to say next!
“I know you don’t think you have what it takes to know me, but you’re wrong. I said most people call me love, because I know you’re not like most people. Love might be a bit of a scary word for you, I know.” Fear smiles from where she’s seated, but “Love” simply goes on. “But I know you feel me. You don’t have to give me a name yet.” She’s perfect. I can feel fear pacing back and forth, reminding me she’s still present, but not interfering with anything. This is definitely a first. Fear is usually center stage. Confidence is a bit shy, but I can feel her smile as we listen to the words of this foreign being in our presence. How can she be so…. Divine? Immaculate? Understanding? In tune? I’ve never heard anything like her. Is it even possible for such peace to exist? Such freedom? Such…. Such bliss? I dare to use that word. Bliss. A word I have never known. A feeling I thought to never exist?
“I’m real,” ‘Love’ says, reading my mind. “All you need to do is accept. Because as powerful as I am, as popular as I am, I cannot force myself on you. You must choose to let me in.”