I’ve never been one for turning-point moments.

I’ve generally believed that change is the result of hundreds of small moments silently piling themselves against you until, little by little, you begin to see thing differently. I’ve always believe that it’s impossible to look back and realize when the balance shifted.

But I’ve found this is not always the case. Yes, sometimes change is the result of years of silent, almost unnoticeable erosion.

But sometimes change happens like an explosion. Two elements meet and react in violent and irresistible ways. Things dissolve. Precipitants form. In fire and smoke bonds are broken; new bonds are fused. 

Holly walked into my life at a moment when the geology of my soul was transforming in volcanic ways. She stepped onto the shifting plates in my heart and something explosive happened in me.

It remade parts of my heart. It fused things that had formerly been separate, and things that were solid, like sand began to sift and dissolve into nothing.

There was no “getting over” that love. I could have survived without it, but I would never be the person I was before. It took me months to understand that, to accept it.

Then while my insides were still churning and the air had only just began to clear, she turned.

My God, she turned!

She turned to me at midnight when my head was desperate to leave her behind.

She turned to me while my heart was still reaching for her.

She touched a flame to an already unstable solution and we both got burned.

Seared. Branded. Kissed by Fire.

When Life hands you moments like that, resisting isn’t really an option. Can gunpowder resist a match?

There’s nothing to do but explode.

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