Often our first is when we are young, high school even. It's the idealistic love; the one that seems like the fairy tales we are all read as children.
It's a love that looks right.
The second is supposed to be our hard love; the one that teaches us lessons about who we are and how we often want or need to be loved. Sometimes it's unhealthy, unbalanced or narcissistic even.
It's the love that we wished was right.
And the third is the love we never see coming. The one that usually comes dressed as all wrong for us and that destroys any lingering ideals we clung to about what love is supposed to be.
It's the love that just feels right.
And there may be those people who fall in love once and find it passionately lasts until their last breath. Someone once told me they are the lucky ones; and perhaps they are.
But I kinda think that those who make it to their third love are really the lucky ones.
They are the ones who are tired of having to try and whose broken hearts lay beating in front of them wondering if there is just something inherently wrong with how they love.
But there's not; it's just a matter of if someone loves in the same way that they do or not.
And maybe there's something special about our first love, and something heartbreakingly unique about our second...but there's also just something about our third.
The one we never see coming.
The one that actually lasts.
The one that shows us why it never worked out before.
And it's that possibility that makes trying again always worthwhile, because the truth is you never know when you'll stumble into love.
-- Repost (Adapted)
