Love is your childhood home. Your favourite part on the couch, the same chair at the kitchen table. Love is your worn-in sweater, the way it smells after you hang it to dry in the garden. Love is the creak in the stairs, the hook in the entryway you always hang your coat on. But leaving makes a mess of it all; it rearranges things. Suddenly, the couch is different, and your favourite chair is broken. Your worn-in sweater is torn, and the clothing lines in the backyard have been blown down by wind. Suddenly, the stairs are quiet in the night, the hook is on the other side of the room. Healing forces you to move. Forces you to buy a different couch, forces you to replace the chair. Healing stitches together your worn-in sweater, patches it with new fabric, pieces of another story. Healing forces you to embrace the silence in the steps, the fact that you have to hang your coat in a different place from now on. Healing forces you to change, to leave behind the familiar. Healing forces you to rebuild.
Sayfa 51Kitabı okudu
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