Anais Nin said, “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.”
Perhaps this is why I write romance; to taste those most precious days twice. To wrap myself in those brightest times, breaths, moments when I felt love, when I knew love and called it home.
Those seconds with eyes closed tight, remembering love’s smile, love’s touch, love’s joy, so you can put it in words, can be soul saving. But the reliving is hard.
To relive those times, to have them again, even for a second, means you have lose them again too. It’s a bittersweet taste of life.
So in that way, the retrospective of love is much the same as in the moment. It is the part of life that can hold both our greatest joys, and deepest sorrows. Love is the blackest night and most exquisite light. The same love that makes you float can crush you beneath an unbearable weight.
And understanding the heavy price we might pay to have love, our hearts still seek it. Because living in those sweetest moments, and the hope of finding your heart’s home, is worth the price.
And if it is lost, writing to taste the best moments of our love twice is worth the ache of letting it go again.
And so I write.