Friendship Letters: Writing About Love

This short story, on writing about love, is a little different than the health-related posts I’ve been making since March.  I hope you enjoy it.

When I reflect upon the heart, I can feel each beat.  I feel the extraordinary way that when I allow love to rush in, my heart fills the cavity of my chest to a magnitude oddly still equipped for my frame. 

When fears roll over me, I feel my heart shrink in dimension, and the walls of my ribs get a little tighter around it.  I feel my frame retract to marry my mood.

The divine intelligence for our heart creation knew that not only was this muscle going to keep us alive through the timed mechanics of beats, but the love needed through each scheduled drum would write a contract with the essence of living.

There are some people, that when we are fortunate enough to know them, they labor your heart with love.  You’ll have to equip your chest with a wardrobe room, to fit the outfits of surprise.

I met one such friend a year and five months ago, Hannah.

From the moment I first met dear Hannah, the very first surprise donned the mask of a happy-faced-sad clown, with a facial tsunami of tears, and the abdominal upheavals of joyous laughter.

The familiarity of a thousand lives spent, with this one moment, ever unique. 

How would I speak to my new, old friend?  My uniquely-abled friend.  

As time would tell, we would work it out. 

Thankfully, Hannah, born with cerebral palsy, has a voice to laugh and writes like a poetic goddess, with love inspiration flooding every cell.  

When your friend of many lives presents an opportunity to overcome the obstacle of speech, we either retract in our chest, or fill it gladly with a borderless world of expansive love.

Dear Hannah, with an exquisite locution of love, keeps my heart expanding, and reminds me that if there is a will, there is a way.