Can This Love Be Translated?

Maybe love isn’t lost.
Maybe it’s simply waiting
to be translated.

Not because your love is wrong,
or lacking,
or less than theirs.

But because love,
left untranslated,
can sound like silence.

And somewhere between
what was given
and what was needed,

two people begin to feel
unloved.

Not because love was absent,

but because it arrived
in the wrong language.

The tragedy of many relationships
isn’t a lack of love.

It’s a room full of it,
sitting unopened,
because neither person
recognizes the wrapping paper.

So we must learn.

Learn that affection
isn’t measured by effort alone.

That intentions,
however pure,
cannot replace understanding.

That sometimes
the greatest act of love
is not giving more,
but giving differently.

Because flowers cannot replace
the reassurance someone longs for.

And words cannot replace
the comfort of touch.

And sacrifice cannot replace
the feeling of being present
in each other’s lives.

Love is not just what leaves your heart.

It is what reaches theirs.

And translation is difficult.

It asks for humility.

Not from one person.

From both.

Because there is something humbling
about realizing

that the love you give
may not be the love they need,

and the love they give
may not be the love you need.

Yet neither is wrong.

You are simply speaking
different languages.

Because love grows

when two people
remain curious enough

to keep discovering
one another.

To keep asking.

To keep listening.

To keep learning

the language beneath the words.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until somewhere
between your language
and theirs,

a new one is created.

One where both people
feel seen.

One where both people
feel chosen.

One where love
is not only given,

but understood.

Until one day,

what was once lost
in translation

becomes a language

spoken fluently
by two hearts.