Love does not return the same way twice.
It changes its shape, its rhythm, its colors. After loss, it never feels as wild, as reckless, as innocent as it once did. It carries scars, shadows, and lessons. And yet, that doesn’t make it less real.

At first, I resisted it.
I thought if it didn’t feel like what we had, then it couldn’t possibly be true. I measured every smile against old memories, every touch against the way you used to hold me. And nothing measured up.

But love is not meant to be compared.
It is not a copy, it is not a replacement. It is something new, something born from who I am now — not who I was before.

This love feels quieter.
It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t promise forever in the same way. But it shows up in small, steady ways. In kindness. In patience. In the courage to sit with my brokenness without trying to erase it.

And maybe that’s what real love looks like after loss.
Not fireworks, but a steady flame.
Not forgetting the past, but learning to live with it, while still opening your heart to tomorrow.

So no, it’s not the same.
It’s different.
But it’s still love.
And different doesn’t mean less — it means new.

Always and Forever

💬 Have you ever found a love that felt different, but still true? Share your story in the comments — it might help someone trust again.