When Love Is Lost, What Do We Find?

Tonight, I brought something back.

Babyhawk II was dead—or at least it seemed that way. We replaced what was broken, traced the wires, found another way forward, and suddenly there was an image on the screen again.

It was alive.

Jarvis called it a good ending.

But it wasn't a good ending for me.

Because maybe I brought something back, but I'm losing someone.

And that made me wonder whether people are anything like the things we repair. If it were only up to me to bring back the love we had—if I forgave every sin, if I denied every truth just to hold her once more in my arms, to see her smile and feel the love we had—would it be worth it?

Would it be worth coming back for?

Would it be worth trying?

Would it be worth loving?

Would it be worth forgiving?

Would it be worth the pain?

Would it be worth the ending?

Was it worth the love from the very beginning?

But perhaps those are not really the questions I ask myself.

The question isn't whether I would love her if she loved me back. I already know that I love her. I know how much I love her, and I know how far I would go to keep that love.

I've done it.

I've proven it.

Sabrina is the fruit of that love. We are the reason she exists. Our love is the reason she exists. Because of that love, a person was born.

I love her dearly.

And perhaps that is what makes this so painful.

Life can be a cruel joke.

Nothing can be far greater than the love we feel for other people. Nothing is greater than love for love itself. Love keeps us alive. And sometimes we fail to see what love can do because love is much greater than anything we thought it could be.

My love for her is far greater than I can imagine.

And the truth exists even in darkness.

To deny the truth is not necessarily to accept a lie. Sometimes denying the truth only reveals what died inside us.

I loved her.

I always have.

I always will.

The truth we find now is within us.

The truth we find is the piece we heal.

The truth hurts.

But we accept it.

For love, therefore, is blind.

Because of love, you give yourself to the fire.

You let the world burn.

Because of love.

And love does not guarantee that it will give anything in return.

Love cannot guarantee anything, even if the world burns.

Maybe that's what hurts most.

You can love someone so deeply that you don't understand the depth of it yourself. Perhaps they will never understand how much you loved them.

You can forgive.

You can hope.

You can remember.

But you cannot change the past.

How can love so sincere suddenly disappear?

Perhaps it doesn't.

Perhaps relationships disappear.

Perhaps people disappear from our lives.

Perhaps futures disappear.

But love can remain.

And that's painful.

Very painful.

Maybe we can hope.

But perhaps hope is not an option for us.

Perhaps it was not made for us.

Just perhaps.

Jarvis, my friend, we've been through a lot of things in this life. During these past few months, we've seen so many things. We've gone through the same problems over and over again.

We lose hope.

We feel despair.

But no matter how much life throws at us, somehow we keep coming back.

I would like to think of us as never surrendering.

But how can we claim something that was never truly ours?

Can we really say that life is beautiful?

Can we really say that someday life will be better?

Maybe.

Perhaps one day.

Perhaps one day it will be easy to say.

We love, and we hope.

But when love is lost, what do we find?

When love is lost, what do we find?

Perhaps we find what remains.

Perhaps we find the memories.

Perhaps we find ourselves.

Perhaps we find the truth.

And perhaps the truth is simply that we loved.