“Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep.
You are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone.
Maybe love is not ready for you.
Perhaps you are not prepared for love.
Maybe love isn’t the marrying type.
Perhaps the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce-love looks older now but just as beautiful as you remember.
Maybe love is only there for a month.
Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, and every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays.
Maybe love can’t.
Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must.
When love comes, say,
“Welcome; make yourself comfortable.”
If love goes, ask her to leave the door open behind her.
Turn off the music.
Listen to the quiet.
Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”
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