Begin Again

by Emma Lord

the kind of moment that proves magic isn’t just for pages in a story, but something you can find all on your own.

they’d still be friends, and it would be more than enough. But enough

I lean back like the sound is some kind of balm, letting the familiarity of it wash over me.

All people who are better off now than they were before, and willing to go to bat for me because of it.

Only with people in my immediate circle have I been able to see the effect of my words.

she’s basically the whole reason I believe in love again.”

“For what it’s worth—me too.”

We’re all better off with her around. I’m glad everyone else seems to agree.”

For what it’s worth—me too.

He wanted me to hear it. He wanted me to know.

I’ve spent too much of my life overthinking things, but this—this is somehow both the easiest and scariest thing I will ever do.

He is the steady pulse of something known, something understood

not a person to build your world around, but a person to build one with.

“I needed liquid courage,” I manage to choke out. “I have something to tell you.”

sometimes you have to chuck the plans out the window.

it’s hard to be afraid of anything, looking into those eyes and knowing that I have nothing to lose;

the feelings we have for each other are strong enough that they can take any form. Whether we walk away from this friends or step into something else entirely, we still have each other for life.

words that have an entirely new meaning now that I’m saying them to him. “I love you.”

maybe you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay, too. I—I just wanted you to know,”

“I needed you to know. Because either way, I want us to be part of each other’s lives.

I’ve never kissed like this before; never been kissed like this before.

This kiss, and all the ones that will come after. This moment, and the infinity beyond it.

his hands still bracing me like I am something too precious to let go.

makes me feel bolder than I’ve ever been.

like spring leaves, like evergreen peaks, like new beginnings.

“I love you, too.”

“Milo, the last thing I’d ever want is to hold you back.” “Same to you,”

The kind of closeness that isn’t just bound by blood, but by love.

this is my home. I don’t want to go somewhere new—I want to make this place something new.

a new kind of magic all its own—the independence of it.

I could explore anything I wanted, whenever I wanted,

A sense of purpose that wasn’t driven by any kind of reward, or a fear of consequences.

A love for a place so deep that you feel compelled to make it the best it can possibly be.

focus solely on what brought me the most joy: I’d help preserve the natural beauty

Now being nervous doesn’t feel like a sign of disaster—it feels like the energy of a new opportunity ahead.

I’m feeling confident, but I think part of that is because I am not so worried about the stakes now as I was when the idea of doing this really scared me.

I’m just going to have to trust myself along the way.

Forget the compass. Let’s go on an adventure.

some part of the grief was always going to be suspended in motion until we started coming to terms with it together.

I slide the compass into my pocket, knowing wherever it takes me, the paths will be all my own.

grounding myself by glancing around this familiar room. At the four walls that have been home to some of my best and worst moments,

Maybe I should be more nervous than this. Somewhere under the peace that settles over me, I probably am.

In this feeling of being deeply rooted and known and loved, and the understanding that this happiness I have found here—in the friends I have made my family, in the dreams I’ve reclaimed and rebuilt, in the heart I’ve learned to follow—is just the start of so much more to come.

a smile blooming on my face as I take in a breath, lean forward, and let the adventure begin again.

for understanding on a soul-deep level my need to hinge every plot on dessert.

I always feel like the bravest version of myself when I’ve got him near.