Beautiful Broken Love

by Shanora Williams

“The only difference between my situation and yours is that you had time to prepare for the worst. To accept it.

“Oh, honey. Love always comes with the good and bad.”

Does this unexpected man make you laugh? Does he make you feel like yourself? Does he comfort you relentlessly, unconditionally? Do you ever feel judged by him? Does he understand you, even at your lowest? Is he patient even when you feel like he’s sick and tired of you?”

“If that man loves you, let him love you, Vina. Don’t deny yourself something good just because you think you don’t deserve it.”

I resisted for so long because I didn’t understand how it could be, you know? How I could love two men with one heart, even when the other is gone. I didn’t think it was possible or that I could feel so much with another man so quickly, but I felt it all and possibly even more with you.”

“I don’t think you should hide him,” Deke said. “He was a part of your life for years. No one can take that away. Not even me.”

“You can’t let him have your name. He took enough away from you. You were born with that. Don’t let him keep it.”

I placed my hand in hers and started to reach for Davina’s until she pressed a hand to the top of my thigh to stop it from bouncing. Our eyes connected, and she gave me a warm smile before weaving her fingers through mine.

Though the last memories of him were shitty and twisted, he was still my damn father. That’s what was messing me up—because I of all people know humans have their weak moments, and what he did to us was him at his weakest. He needed help, that’s a fact, and he never got it.

It was my turn to choose the same thing. Joy. I closed the gap between me and my dad and instead of punching him, I hugged him. This wasn’t a hug of reminiscing, forgiveness, or even sorrow. It was a hug to let him know that I loved him—that I’d always love him—but that I’d never see him as the same man who taught me all my firsts.

When you first learn how to play basketball, you stumble a few times and miss a lot of the shots you take. You grow frustrated, but you keep dribbling that ball, keep shooting, keep moving your feet. Your chin stays up, and even when you feel like you’ll never be great—that you’ll never accomplish your goals—that’s when it all falls into place.

We had a love like no other—a beautiful, broken love that healed us when we needed it most.

That seemed like such a loaded question at the time. Was I ready to let go? Ready to move on? Ready to create new adventures and a new life? Ready to leave the past in the past to make space for an undefined future with him? I looked into my fiancé’s eyes, rose to my toes, and kissed him. “Yeah,” I said when our lips parted. “I’m ready.”