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Love behind a glass


There is a window somewhere inside me.

Not a locked door.

Not a wall built from stone.

Just a pane of glass I cannot quite explain.

I still believe in laughter.

I still believe in eyes meeting across a crowded room.

I still believe in the warmth of a hand finding another hand.

I still believe in passion.

I still believe in two people becoming so comfortable with one another that smiles arrive before words do.

And yet, there is that window.

I stand on one side of it,
watching a life I still want.

Perhaps the glass was placed there long ago,
when I was too young to understand why people could be careless with a heart.

Perhaps it was built from old wounds,
old memories,
old disappointments.

I don’t know.

What I do know is this:

Love still lives in me.

I hear it in my laughter.

I see it in the joy I feel when I make my grandson laugh.

I feel it in those brief moments when a stranger’s kindness reminds me that connection is still possible.

The window may still be there.

But windows are transparent.

They let light through.

And maybe that’s the message.

I am not closed.

I am not broken.

I am simply standing here,
waiting for someone whose soul speaks the same language as mine.

Someone whose presence feels like coming home.

Until then,
I will sit peacefully in my solitude,

Knowing that somewhere between the silence and the laughter,

Love is still

deeprhyme

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