Hope

Love can be a fickle thing.

There are times when it nurtures you...makes you feel protected and indestructable.

Then there are the times when it beats you down. Throwing punch after punch until your legs give way, leaving your body crumpled on the cold, hard floor.

Sometimes, even when the bruises have long since faded...the mere memory of the hurt is enough to shy you away from letting yourself fall again. You build protective walls and wear armor over your heart. You become keenly aware of the labored beating beneath your chest as it strains against the bits of glue and tape holding it together.

Your soul focus becomes survival.

A friend recently said to me, "Lindsey, I just don't believe in the fantasy of true love anymore. It's an unattainable goal that builds you up...only to let you down. I just don't know that soulmates exist in reality."

I pondered that statement for awhile...I turned it over and over in my head until the complete and hopeless romantic in me took over. Yes, I've had my share of bitterness and anger. And yes, I've had to pick my broken body up off the floor and nurse wounds that I thought would never heal. But I have to believe that true love exists...I know it does...I've felt it. I know what it's like to meet your other half and finally feel whole. I know what it's like to have someone tell you that you are the one they were meant to spend the rest of their life with...that you were put here for them.

I know that we can't give up hope.

I know that every ounce of hope breathes life into this wounded little heart of mine and every day it beats just a little stronger.