"You don't find them... they find you."
Those were the last words my mother ever spoke to me about love.
She never believed in chasing people.
She believed that the kind of love worth having would always know where to find you.
I used to laugh whenever she said it.
"How can someone find me if they don't even know I exist?" I'd ask.
She would smile, brush a loose curl away from my face, and kiss my forehead.
"Because what's meant for you has a way of finding you, Sovereign."
Back then, I thought she was talking about fairy tales.
Now...
I think she was talking about faith.
...
Every morning, before the city is fully awake, I leave my apartment and walk to the cathedral.
The old wooden doors have become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
I kneel in the same pew.
I bow my head.
I close my eyes.
And I pray.
Not for money.
Not for success.
Not for a perfect life.
I pray for the kind of love my mother once had.
A love that sees beyond appearances.
A love that stays.
A love that chooses.
When the final "Amen" leaves my lips, I whisper one more prayer that I never say out loud.
"Please... let someone love me for who I am."
After leaving the cathedral, I stop by the flower shop on the corner.
Fresh roses.
Always roses.
They were my mother's favorite.
Then I make the short walk to the cemetery.
I kneel beside the gravestone engraved with her name.
In Memory of Grace Hart
The Most Loving Mother Ever
I brush away the leaves that have settled against the stone and place the flowers where they belong.
Then I talk.
About my day.
About work.
About the strangers I met.
About the dreams I'm too afraid to tell anyone else.
Sometimes I laugh.
Sometimes I cry.
Sometimes I sit there in silence, pretending the wind is her answer.
The cemetery has become the only place where I never feel judged.
The only place where I can tell the truth.
I tell her everything...
Except how terrified I am that she might have been wrong.
That maybe love isn't coming for me after all.
Maybe people like me don't get fairy tales.
Maybe some hearts are simply meant to keep waiting.
I stand, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and look at her name one last time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Mama."
I always do.
Because if there's one promise I'll never break...
It's the one I made to the woman who taught me that love doesn't have to be chased.
It only has to be real.
🖤
YOU ARE READING
The One Who Found Me
Romance"You don't find them... they find you." Those were the words Mama Grace lived by. Every morning, Sovereign Hart prays for a love like the one her mother once had. Every day, she visits her mother's grave, hoping the woman she misses most is somehow...
