Love does not prevent death.
It transforms the experience of life.
Loving didn’t fail.
It didn’t fall short.
It didn’t “not work.”
Love is not a shield against mortality.
It is what makes life meaningful while it’s here.
I was experiencing this strange, child like primal belief that lives in many of us that if we love enough, we can bargain with the universe.
“Take years off my life.”
“Give me the illness instead.”
“Let me argue my case.”
The bargaining stage is ancient. A spiritual reflex.
Why does death have to exist?
Some say form is temporary. Nature cycles.
Some say without death, love would have no urgency.
Some say we lose physical access, not the soul.
And some days none of those feel comforting.
That’s okay.
You’re not required to make death feel beautiful.
Grief is shocking not because death is rare.
It’s shocking because attachment is invisible.
We don’t walk around consciously thinking:
“This being regulates my nervous system.”
“This presence anchors my identity.”
“This love has become part of who I am.”
But it has.
So when someone dies, we don’t just lose them.
We lose the version of ourselves that existed with them.
Why do we have to experience grief?
Because love exists.
Grief is not separate from love.
It is love with nowhere to land physically.
If we want deep attachment, we accept deep loss.
Maybe grief isn’t punishment.
Maybe it is the shadow of something that mattered.
I don’t think grief is something to fix.
I think it is something to honour.
Because it only exists where love existed first
