You love – the way hearts are supposed to love. Words written with hope, eyes that read stories behind every beautiful scar. You’ve been taught to turn love into a game, to step cautiously and trust that pain is inevitable. You’ve been taught to wait 3 days before you text someone, to hold yourself back, to turn conversations into calculations. And here you are. Still. Your heart unguarded. Pouring yourself into another person, tipping and flowing with limitless love.
Here you are. Honest.
See, you refuse to let heartbreak burn through faith. You see the best in people. You look at their flaws and love every bit of them. You’ve been told that you’re too much. That you need to reign your emotions in, as if they’re animals to be tamed, as if they were never meant to run wild. But you aren’t like them. You’re so much more. You trust in the magic of happy endings, aware that stories are beautiful regardless. You’re aware that love – real love will always be the greatest man-made miracle, and you’re unafraid of chasing it. In a world seared with cynicism and wounded with lost love, you still…believe. You’re the person authors can only dream of writing about, the Apurv who falls head over heels for Amyra, believing that his love is worthy of happiness – for he an Amyra were “an unfinished poem”, beautiful in every way. You love, love, and then love some more, never giving up on the idea that some souls are intertwined, that some hands are never meant to be let go of.
They’ll tell you settle. To turn into dust and suffocate as it twists your soul into ordinary. As you become someone you can no longer recognize, someone who forgets the joy of feeling it all. Erasing out the the pride that comes with having tried, with having put yourself out there. Forgetting that love isn’t a series of risks, it’s a feeling. But hold onto yourself, my love. Hold on to the waves of emotions that make you, you. Step fearlessly off the cliff and trust that you shall fly – for one day, you will. Trust that the person you’ve given your heart to is worthy of it. But also be aware that not everyone is like you. That while people are worthy keepers of hearts, they do not always understand the hearts they are entrusted with. So try, once again. To paint their body with the hues of hope, to break down their walls while they see – love doesn’t always make sense. And love isn’t something you give up on either – for Apurv never stopped believing in Amyra, even as she struggled to uncover her own feelings. Of course, the bravest, most beautiful part about you is that through it all, you set people free. You choose to see their happiness as your own, struggling through the hurt because your heart can take it. For even though Apurv and Amyra were an unfinished poem, “They could have been the sweetest story ever written , like an unfinished poem, they weren’t meant to be.” His love? His courage as he trusted in that eventual happy ending? That’s a tale that can spin epics.
So fall, my dear.
Fall, for your being
built with muscle, and bound with love
can survive every crash.
This article was written in partnership with Penguin Random House.