Lorraine Forest

The Tears I Was Allotted for Love is her first book — though she would tell you it was written over a lifetime, not a year.

She has been a lover, a spendthrift of the heart, a banker of her own grief, and a reluctant accountant of all she has given and lost. She has been bankrupted by love and has rebuilt herself, deposit by deposit, in the currency of something other than tears. She has learned the hard way that tears are not infinite — but that love, somehow, still is.

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She writes from the quiet of a dry season, from a place where the crying has stopped but the feeling has not. She writes for anyone who has ever given more than they received, trusted more than they should have, and wondered if they would ever feel whole again. She writes because she has finally learned that the last drop is not for anyone else — it is for herself.

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She lives somewhere between the sea and the moon, surrounded by the garden she planted in the emptiness. She is still healing, still growing, still learning to love without losing herself.

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She has no more tears left for love.

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And she has never been more free.

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"If I shed even one more, I'd be borrowing from the next life's account. And I have decided: this life is enough."

 

— from The Tears I Was Allotted for Love