It's amazing the kind of things people do for love sometimes. We rip our hearts out, tear ourselves to shreds, give up our dreams, defy the people that care about us… and we do it all for the very simple thing we call "love."

We make sacrifices. We do the very things that make us cry out in pain, and we do it all with our heads held high, unshed tears stinging our eyes, fighting with every breath to be strong. We make decisions that we would have never contemplated before we heard the whispered "I love you," before we felt all the pieces suddenly come together and before there was life in our lives. Nothing matters but that person we have deemed worthy of our heart. Nothing matters but protecting that person, keeping them happy and safe, giving them the best life we can, regardless of whether that life is entwined with ours. We are willing to lose a part of ourselves, or even all of ourselves, to ensure the happiness of the one person that makes everything - the pain, the heartbreak, the tears - worthwhile.

And when someone asks, "Why did you do that? Why did you carve out your heart and slice it into pieces?" You have only one answer to give. "Love," you whisper, and it hurts too much to even form the words. That's all you know. That's the only thing keeping you sane, the only thing keeping you from ramming your fist into a window or dragging the shiny metal blade deep across your skin. You did it for love. You did a good thing, perhaps the best thing you have ever done or will ever do. You may never stop hurting and you may always be missing a part of yourself, but you did the one thing that mattered - you loved, and you did it well. You did it the way it was supposed to be done, without expectations, without reserve, without fear.

Sometimes the best thing to do when you love someone is to walk away. Sometimes it's the only thing you can do to protect them. Sometimes, even if it kills you inside, you blow them a kiss good-bye from a distance, try to memorize every aspect of their face, then turn around and walk away. You try to remember the way they looked at you, with so much love and trust. You remember the way your skin burned as their fingertips ran over you. You hold on to the love that ran through your veins when you were lost in each other. You try to remember the little things - the way they laughed, the way her rings reflected the light, the way he would stare at you as you moved around the room, the way she would run her fingers through your hair, the sound of his voice as he called your name. And maybe your name was never as beautiful as it was when he whispered it against your ear.

You remember all of that as you walk away, knowing the memories are all you have. You're setting your love free, hoping against hope that they will come back to you. You know better, but you still hope. A small part of you hopes that they realize you're the one for them, that no one in the world will love them like you do, and you hope that it matters enough to make them come back to you. You know they won't, but you still hope because you want them to love you the way you love them. Maybe they can't. Maybe you love them more than they will ever love you. Maybe you have more love to give than they do. Maybe all the love they can ever offer you is never enough and you know that if you stick around, you will just demand more and they will resent you. Maybe Life has chosen to keep you apart, but you think they deserve more. You think they need someone who can hold them and wipe away their tears and share their lunch.

You want to give them the world and because it isn't in your hands, you want to let them find it somewhere else. And for some reason you think it's your decision to make. You don't stop to think that maybe, just maybe, you're loved in return with the same intensity you offered. Sometimes you think you know so well what is best for another person that you neglect to look past yourself to that other person who will be affected by the decision. Sometimes you may realize the mistake you made by walking away from the person who loved you but didn't know how to show it. Sometimes they may hate you for walking away, no matter what your reasons are. They may hate you for taking their heart with you, for taking away their control of their own life, for thinking that you had any idea what they wanted. Sometimes you may find each other again and you may see that love still shines, and hopefully then you will have realized that life is no life at all without the one person you want to wake up to for the rest of your life.

Love can hurt. It can hurt so much that it's all you can do to get out of bed each morning. It can make you want to give up on life, on ever being happy again. It can make you cry for no real reason. It can make you bitter and hateful. It can make you shut down and hide in the darkness of your despair. After a while you may hold on to the pain because you don't know how to live without it anymore. You hold on to it because that's all there is left of love. You listen to music that reminds you of happier times and you wallow in the memories because you want your brittle heart to break over and over. You want to remember that you loved. You want to remember that you lost.

Then one day, when the sky is clear and the wind whispers a gentle greeting, you feel yourself take a breath that reaches the very soles of your feet and sends an arrow of warmth straight to your heart. You remember. You remember the pain, the tears, the laughter, the kisses, the scent of their skin, the way they came alive in your hands. You remember, but you can smile now. Not a smile that only reaches your eyes, but one that comes from your heart. You're starting to heal and you're starting to forget. Maybe you fight to hold on to the memories that are slowly disintegrating. Maybe you let the wind sweep away the dust, no longer needing to remember. Maybe you long to forget. Maybe you still hope, because you still think that love is meant to be, but for now you learn to live a little and smile and breathe.

Learning to breathe again is the most difficult part of all.

"The thing is, I went to hell and back for love and I still lost it. I never thought I'd heal from it. But I did. And then I met someone who had been to the same hell and lost the love of his life. We looked at each other like two people who had been part of the same war. We shared our battle scars and we understood how much pain each of us was hiding beneath our eyes. We forgave each other that night...and we learned to forgive ourselves.”

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