It comes quietly, like a shadow, and before you have a chance to try save whatever beautiful thing you built…the dark has already surrounded you. When death comes for love, saving it might do more damage than letting it go; what used to inspire, what used to ignite… it all slowly suffocates.

And during the war between deceit, and vanity and pride, love hides. Hides its face from the death you did not know you were letting in. It might hide itself in the corners of your heart no one dared to touch, or it may make a home deep within the eyes of another, waiting for you to find it again.

The ‘Death of Love’, such an arbitrary paradox, and yet it is not such a foreign concept. Take the Ash tree; it embodies this concept perfectly. In winter when death overwhelms it, it lets go of all the leaves it had loved so fiercely throughout the summer, knowing that the bareness of its empty branches will not last forever and when another summer comes, it will be loved again with the light and vibrancy of a thousand dancing leaves.

Even in heartbreak, and the extremely complex (and public) relationships our generation seems to immerse itself in, the death of love reminds us that we are human. That we are not the centre of the universe, that things aren’t always meant to last forever and if they did we would never grow or change or experience anything new.

In death there is life. And life comes just as quietly as death sometimes, in the stolen kisses, in the hidden smiles in the moments you catch yourself laughing when you thought you should be mourning. Some of us will have few true loves, and some of us will have many. Sorrow and Joy, death and life, indifference and love; all these and everything that falls in between them will have their time in our hearts. I am learning that the valley of the shadow of death is also the valley of the shadow of life and we are in a never ending cycle of metamorphosis… and love will always find you again, sometimes even in the same place you left it.

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