WHEN LOVE COMES AGAIN
- Theflip Mag
- Jan 1
- 4 min read
As the old chair swings back and forth, the night stays still; the stars are brighter than ever. Gorgeous Sophie, in her prime, now in her twilight years, with a graceful yet heart-warming smile and a trace of Renaissance beauty, sits with her granddaughter, May, who is a carbon copy of her. There's silence in the air for a brief second, and then Sophie says
"True love is often steadfast and straightforward yet easily overlooked in pursuit of fleeting admiration or material things.
Cherish genuine affection, value kindness over external allure, and don't let pride or ambition blind you to what matters most—because once lost, real love may never return.
"When I was young and on the Vogue cover page, I was the talk of the town; I was the poster girl for beauty, a small-town girl turned Hollywood star. I was the one who had all the girls green with envy and all the boys sleepless nights… no man, woman or child was safe from my beauty. I charmed them all, "with a smile that warms even the darkest heart," Sophie says to May.
"Aaaaaah" is the word that comes out of May's mouth.
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, a saying that holds as May's beauty replicates that of her grandmother and does one better, just like her grandma back in the days of Sophia, but also lacking in attitude, just like her grandma.
"I know you wonder the purpose of this lecture, I know you wonder why I called you here, but if you wish to learn truly, you must understand that all you are, all you are doing has been done before, and before that, it all fades. Sophie shares her words with May as they both laugh.
May would love to be anywhere, but here feels like a waste of precious time; her phone is still beeping away, her extensive online following is still waiting.
"My head was in the clouds; my heart was in the ground. I met a young man, a true gentleman, one who took his time to do things properly; he was everything, he was the answered prayers of most wise women, but for my high standards, I couldn't see the beauty of the man not on the outside but inside, he had such a beautiful soul, he was gentle and kind no matter what I did…"
May reacts with a shrug of the shoulders and a shift of feet to announce her displeasure with this particular conversation, believing she knows it all, and then the words follow.
"He might be every girl's dream, but not mine. Besides, that's your story; in my story, he is the boy no one wants. He is the boy who never stands out in the crowd…
Sophie replies, "He is also the boy who spent hours waiting for you when you hit your leg on that rock, and he is also the boy who came here every day just to bring you soup when you fell ill years ago…"
May, "…well, we are not kids anymore. Things change, people move on, and I have certainly done that. I appreciate all he did, but I am grown now… "
Sophie, "And so is he, but nothing's changed. He still comes around to bring you soup when you fall ill… "
"Well, that's the problem. Why soup? … why not flowers? A necklace? Something pricy? "
May took a slow, steady breath, realising this conversation might stretch on much longer than she hoped. Sophie, so much like herself in her youth—determined, outspoken, and fiercely set on her own desires—rarely accepted advice without experiencing life first-hand. May knew she had to come to terms with the reality that wisdom often comes not from counsel, but from the lessons time delivers. Despite this, Sophie was resolved to share her story, holding onto the hope that her granddaughter might choose a wiser path.
.
"I understand this isn't where you want to be, and you'd rather not listen, "but I'm still going to tell my story. It's the least I can do." Though reluctant, May decided to endure a few minutes for her grandmother's sake, thinking, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Sophie's voice softened as she recalled the past. "When it started, I loved him just as deeply as he loved me. But that love wasn't born of choice—it was all I knew. I hadn't seen much of the world yet; I was just a small-town girl dreaming bigger than her little feet could carry. He was the sweetest, most humble man I ever knew, and trust me, I met many along the way. He'd walk me home after school, listen to my wildest dreams, and visit whenever I couldn't get out of bed. He was nearly perfect.
As my name grew and I blossomed into a rose among flowers, he became everything to me—until my world grew too bright. The crowd that adored me began to see him as beneath me, just a small-town boy lost in the shadow of Hollywood's call. I remember our last night together: he begged me not to change, warning how fame could consume. I promised I wouldn't, but I broke my word. He disappeared from my life, replaced by band members, fans, and groupies all vying for a piece of me.
The adoration felt real—the love, the lights, all of it—but it was fleeting. When the lights faded, I realised I had lost the only real love I'd ever known. Twenty-five years later, I saw him again for the first time—at his funeral. He looked peaceful and dignified, and I was reminded of everything I had thrown away. His wife spoke from the pulpit, full of gratitude for their life together. As she said, I saw what might have been, if only I'd held onto love when it came." May clasped Sophie's hand, tears falling silently between them.
"I don't want you to live through my regrets," Sophie whispered, her words heavy with emotion. "That young man who left here just minutes ago—ignored because you didn't see him—is love. I wished it could be me, but my time has passed. Love has returned for you. Please, don't make my mistake."
Sophie's plea struck May with a force she couldn't explain, leaving her quietly questioning whether she was moving too fast and whether she needed to slow down and truly appreciate what she had.
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