The Greatest Honour

To have loved and lost… is one of the greatest honours of the human condition. It is the ultimate symbol of your existence and sovereignty in the infinite universe.

To be loved is to be seen, accepted and celebrated for who you are. To be loved is a validation of our very being. It is the universe telling us that everything we are, with all our cracks and scars — is enough. To be loved is to experience being human at its purest.

Letting go is never easy.

To have experienced wholesome love — and to then sacrifice it for something greater requires an amount of courage tantamount to folly. It requires you to ask what is truly important to you and what you’re willing to do to get there. It is a sign of true maturity and understanding of your existence. Of understanding the consequences of your actions. Of leaving a warm, comfortable hug and taking a jump into the great, wide unknown — never knowing whether it is the right thing or if you’ll come to regret it later.

It evinces a staunch sense of fortitude.

In social rhetoric, we often look down upon losing love. We speak of what our soul has lost, of everything we put into a love that will never come back to us.

If anything, we must congratulate ourselves on taking up a venerable crusade. At this moment, we must feel pride in trusting our own self and moving a step closer to its true needs—even if it entails a painful transformation. It is a moment of importance, a fork in the road to discovering ourselves.

We make the harder choice, not for anyone — but for us. For no reason other than because we must. A truer expression of free will may be hard to find.

And indeed, a love that gives us so much before we deem it a ‘failure’ couldn’t be farther from one. It could someday morph us into something greater than what we imagined we could be. Someday, when the hurt fades away.

So it goes.