Wishful Thinking

One of my favorite quotes comes from a letter John Steinbeck wrote to his hopelessly romantic son.

In it, he reminds him that love is real if he believes it to be so and encourages him to embrace it without fear. Steinbeck speaks tenderly about the many forms love can take, from selfish and cruel to pure and kind.

But mostly, he understands that his son isn’t asking for permission to feel love. He’s asking how to survive it.

The letter closes with a line I carry with me like a charm:

“And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens. The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.”

Those words stretch far beyond the borders of love.

They touch every facet of life.

For a long time, I lived in fear of losing what I loved, constantly chasing the future instead of living in the present.

It would have been easy, almost too easy, to blame it on the usual suspects: teenage scars, fears of abandonment. But the truth was simpler, and harder.

I was trying to control what was never mine to control.

The moment I loosened my grip, life stopped feeling like something I had to wrestle into submission. I stopped bracing for loss and started trusting in the unfolding.

And I learned: clinging out of fear does not save you. It only stunts you.

Sometimes, the only way forward is to let go and trust that the things meant for you won’t be scared away by a little space.

Looking back at my own history with love, I can now see both sides of it clearly.

I have known love that bruised more than it blessed, a wild, consuming force that left me bitter, cautious, almost unrecognizable to myself.

It was love that wore the mask of devotion but served only itself.

But I have also known a love that felt like standing in sunlight.

A love that stirred something sacred inside me—creativity, compassion, growth—gifts I didn’t even know were mine to give.

If you are anything like me, you find yourself reflecting sometimes, wondering whether you were loved, or simply wounded in love’s name.

You wonder if you were yearning for someone, or just addicted to the ache of it.

Here is what I have learned:

Real love doesn’t hurt you on purpose.

It doesn’t test you, punish you, or make you doubt your own worth.

Real love is a quiet place. A home you recognize even in the dark.

When I truly loved someone, I couldn’t bear the thought of causing them pain, because their hurt would have echoed in me too.

Even after the love faded, I prayed for their happiness until they became just a soft memory, no longer a weight on my mornings.

After all the cruel love we survive, there is this truth:

Love, real love, remains one of the most beautiful and essential parts of life, and it is something we are all worthy of.

As Steinbeck suggested, events will unfold as they are meant to. He believed, as do I, that ultimately,

“Nothing good gets away.”

-AB

Song of the night – You’ve Got the Love by Florence + The Machines