The person who loves you now, at this very moment in time, at this particular juncture in space, once loved someone else before you, and you have to be okay with that. You have to be okay with all the names they’ve pronounced dozens of times until they got them just right. You have to be okay with those things, with the hands they held and, even the awkward first dates they went on filled with so much tension it couldn’t have been sliced even with a butcher knife.
Because the thing is, the person who loves you now was a different person entirely before they were with you. Every passageway hidden inside their body was lit differently; every corridor inside their brain was traveled by new thoughts. Their synapses were firing with another kind of love, a love unique to this person and their significant other. If all the different kinds of love in the world were bottled up in tiny vials like perfume or shots of alcohol, there would be millions. Billions, even. Trillions. Because what’s love for one person, is something else entirely to another. So the person who loves you now- they once held a bottle of another color, size, shape, you name it, in their hands, right over their heart.
But that doesn’t mean that you have to try to find this vial, wherever it’s residing currently, and smash it open till all the love pours out in a thick stream, just so you can fill yours with the same kind of love. It doesn’t mean that. In fact, it’s better if you don’t, because what the person who loves you now had with their previous lover can never be replicated. It would be wrong to steal a feeling like that and try to make it your own.
The body is basically a mosaic. Every inch of it- veins, lungs, liver, and fingernails- is filled with different memories and experiences. It’s a collage of so many things. If you aren’t okay with the person who loves you now, loving someone else before you, then essentially you’re not okay with all the shards nestled beneath their skin that are made up of this previous lover. Essentially, you’re not okay with some of their pieces, and without those pieces, they wouldn’t be whole. You can’t be with a broken shell of a person, or a half skeleton, or a mosaic missing its most basic parts.
You have to learn to say yes to the entire person, not just the parts of them you wish were yours. The person you love now isn’t a computer chip whose electrical wiring and circuits can be deleted or removed at will. So treat them like every single shard and scar and word is necessary, because, well, it is.
It’s difficult, yes, as difficult as crawling through a hurricane or pulling yourself from the wreckage of a splintered ship lost in the middle of the water, but you have to stop thinking about everyone who loved the person who now loves you, and who they loved before you. The past can’t be changed, only less thought of.
The person who loves you now, right now- who even as you read this might be smiling at you from across the room- they loved someone else before you. And you have to be okay with that, you do.
Because the fact that they love you now, despite loving someone else beforehand, means that you’re pretty damn special.