Lately I have been in deep conversation with my therapist around love. After getting divorced in 2020, I really never thought I’d be open to love again. I was certain that Josh was the only man I’d ever love. Certain that I’d given him all my love, and that I’d have no more to give even if I was open to it again. Certain that he was the best love I’d ever receive, and to hope for something as good as, let alone better, would be a hopeless mission.