#fbf: Lovable, Even At Your Worst

About three years ago, I sat on the porch of this amazing beachfront bungalow soaking up the sunshine and yelling at Trigger to stay away from the stray perros that seemed to run the beach town of Tulum.  It was easy to fall in love with this place – in all its magic and perfection.  It is easy to love under the clearest skies & the most positive circumstances.

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As of about three days ago, her staunch skeleton – having clearly been abandoned for some time – was all that remained.  Though her bones remain intact – undoubtedly surviving through many storms and wild inhabitants* – she is, now, definitely a ghost of her full and lively past.  I vividly recall: the cute young family that lived in one of the main yurts on the property – now gone.  No longer does she host young so-in-love couples ready to elope in her wake.   No longer is she as easy on the eyes nor so easy to be completely enamored by.  I took a moment to walk through, and at once felt both the soft ocean breeze and let the memories of those snapshots of a love-filled history drift past me and through her forsaken walls.  At once, my heart felt so full and an aching sense of loss.

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Looking at her now, some might think this little bungalow has let go her final death rattle, but I don’t think so.  I still love her, even in her imperfect dilapidated state.  She may never be a reoccupied nest of love (and impeccable design) that she once was; though even in her worst shape, one of the greatest loves I’ve ever known was still as inimitable and strong there 3 days ago as it was 3 years ago.

Sugar, if you won’t love something at its worst, you do not deserve it at its best. 

And if you are lucky enough to find that sort of great, amazingly powerful, true love for/from someone/thing – the kind that transcends time, struggles, challenges, and the worst parts of life – you should consider yourself extremely lucky.  I know that I do.

With all my heart,

Huckleberry Kim

(*re: wild inhabitants:  in its state now, I found some dead reptiles inside – potentially dragged in by some of those stray perros who still run the town (lol); three years ago, I’d crawled up to the loft space to surprise Tom after he’d run out to the car to grab something…but rather than surprise him, I was surprised by the giant opossum waiting up in the loft for me #terrifying)

sound of the moment:

the smiths – there is a light that never goes out

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