Love twice

 From Malika TV

There's a beautiful saying that goes like

this:

"If you truly love someone, you love them

twice. The first time, it's all about

attraction, their smile, voice, presence. But

slowly, the curtain lifts. You see their

scars, insecurities, mood swings, trauma,

moral differences. It's no longer perfect.

It's real. And if you can still love them,

without filters, without expectations,

that's not infatuation. That's the love of

understanding. The kind that stays.

The kind that grows."

If you truly love someone, you love them twice -- the first time for the spark, the laughter, the way their presence feels like magic and their smile makes everything seem brighter and lighter all at once; and the second time after you've seen their scars, their insecurities, their past wounds, their flaws, their complicated emotions, and the sides of them that aren't always easy to handle, yet you still choose to stay and love them without conditions or illusions. That's not infatuation, that's not fantasy -- that's understanding, the kind that stays and the kind that grows stronger with time."

The first love is about excitement, chemistry, butterflies, and the thrill of something new that feels almost unreal in its intensity.

The second love is about patience, acceptance, emotional safety, and making a conscious decision to stand beside someone even when things feel ordinary, difficult, or imperfect.

The first happens naturally without effort, driven by emotion and desire.

The second happens intentionally, driven by maturity, depth, and the willingness to love someone exactly as they are.

And when you can love someone twice - once for who they seem to be and again for who they truly are beneath the surface - that's when love becomes deep, steady, and unshakable instead of temporary and fleeting.

He said

He said love is patient

He said love is not easily angered

He said love keeps no record of wrongs

He said love always protects

He said love always overcomes

He said love never fails

then He said: I am love

They knew

 They died knowing how 

much you loved them.

There was nothing more

you needed to do.

They knew.

Still alive

 Have you ever grieved someone who is still alive? A parent who will never show up the way you need.

A sibling who will never acknowledge what happened. You're not grieving their death. You're grieving the version of them you hoped for. That's anticipatory grief. And it hurts because you finally accepted they are not going to become who you needed them to be. Do you understand how heavy that is?

~Zenda Lee Williams

This comment

 From Melissa M Schlemmer

This comment often rubs people the wrong way because it's usually said to the one who is still standing after the loss of their child. I know it can be meant as a "you're so strong I don't know how you're doing it" comment but it doesn't always feel that way. For many moms it feels like a "you must not love your child as much as I do because here you are standing while I know I couldn't survive" remark. I'm not saying that's the intent...but that's often the interpretation.

With all that said.

You don't survive.

The person I was when he was alive is gone.

She took her last breath too.

She didn't walk out of there with me. I walked out as someone new.

Still unsure of who she is...but we're figuring it out.

What we give

Saw a video that said,

"What we give doesn't always

return, but what we give is

always who we are," and it

changed my whole

perspective. 

Next

 Just keep praying.

God will show you 

what to do next.