In all your stories, have you ever been loved

I wonder if love stories can outgrow themselves
That they missed so may right timings, 
and failed all needs at the wrong moment.
I am wondering if you could have been 
what I saw you being in other parts of yourself.

It is not that it wasn’t you, 
It was not you for me.
And if I am being honest,
I think what has been broken by that,
made me a wrong timing for you too.

I wonder,
What was I ought to learn from this
What was the lesson so profound that it was worth breaking my heart
What was the epiphany I was not able to be wake up to in a more gentle way?
Loving truly is a violent act and sacrifices every part of yourself that you do not hold worthy.
And if not reciprocated, abandons every part of our bones aching for salvation.

But love- love has never been worn the color if violence.
’Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.’

Tell me, in all your stories, 
have you’ve been loved before my dear.