I Will Love You Twice - By Katy Pastrana

Written By: katy Pastrana

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Katy Pastrana's poignant poem, "I Will Love You Twice," graces the stage of creative expression. Hailing from the category of Poetry, this piece delves into the profound theme of love and belonging, weaving a narrative that speaks to the duality of affection. Pastrana artfully explores an old Greek saying, capturing the essence of falling in love twice and the intricate dance between admiration and reality. Her words invite readers to reflect on the complexities of love, both in its initial sweetness and its enduring, deeper form.

About the Work

"I Will Love You Twice" by Katy Pastrana is a contemplative journey through the layers of love and attachment. The poem eloquently contrasts the initial allure of new love with the enduring commitment of deeper affection. Pastrana employs vivid imagery and an introspective tone to illustrate the beauty and struggles inherent in relationships. This reflective piece captures the essence of loving something or someone in their entirety, embracing both the enchanting and the challenging aspects. The work is a testament to the resilience and enduring nature of love.

I Will Love You Twice

Original Submission by katy Pastrana

I Will Love You Twice

There is an old Greek saying

that to truly love someone,

you must fall in love with them twice.

The first time is easy.

It is the sweetness of a first glance,

the tenderness of unfamiliar hands,

the beautiful things we offer up

when we are still trying to be loved.

It is loving what is lovely,

what is gentle,

what has not yet asked us to stay.

But the second love-

the second love is a different thing entirely.

It comes slowly,

without ceremony or revelation.

It comes in the small hours of the morning,

when their snoring keeps you awake,

when their rant on the telephone

is a record you cannot bear to hear again.

It comes in the arguments,

in the snot and the tears,

in the cruel things said through exhaustion,

in the silences that follow.

It comes when understanding fails,

when patience has long since abandoned you,

when there is nothing beautiful left

to make loving easy.

And still, somehow,

you do.

I have often heard foreigners speak of you

with the breathless devotion of new lovers.

They love your summers.

The fruit, heavy and sweet,

splitting beneath their fingers,

the juice running down their wrists.

They love the white surf breaking

upon long stretches of burning sand,

the mountains, ancient and sun-baked,

rising out of the earth like the backs of sleeping giants.

They love the wide, ungovernable wilderness,

the gold of your evening skies,

the great, extravagant beauty of you.

And who could blame them?

You have always been

so easy to fall in love with.

But theirs is a holiday love.

They have loved you in the sunshine,

with clean sheets and open windows,

with the sea still drying on their skin.

They have loved you

when you have been lovely.

And I wonder if patriotism

is simply what happens

when we fall in love a second time.

When the electricity fails

and the fan slows to silence,

when the heat settles heavily upon my chest

and mosquitoes whine about my ears.

When sweat creeps down my spine

in cold, sticky fingers,

and I lie awake, cursing you

beneath the suffocating dark.

When the flies settle upon my food,

when the dust gets into everything,

when the roads are broken

and the promises more so.

When I am tired of your troubles,

tired of your injustices,

tired of explaining away

the things that should never need explaining.

For there are things about you

that I cannot forgive.

There are wounds you have not healed,

wrongs you have not righted,

and people you have failed

who have loved you all their lives.

I will not call these things beautiful.

I will not pretend they are necessary.

I will not mistake my love for innocence.

And yet-

I love you in the crowded taxi,

knees pressed against strangers’ knees,

with the windows open to the hot afternoon.

I love you in the veld,

where I stoop to gather litter

from the earth that raised me.

I love you when the crickets begin their evening chorus,

when the first great thunderstorm breaks the summer heat,

when the smell of rain rises from the dust

before a single drop has fallen.

I love you even as I rush

to place buckets beneath my leaking roof,

even as I curse the potholes

now brimming with rain.

And perhaps that is the strangest thing of all:

That I can rage against you

and still rejoice in you.

That I can know how much is wrong

and still believe there is something here

worth making right.

For love, the second time,

is not the absence of disappointment.

It is knowing disappointment intimately

and refusing to let it have the final word.

It is not loving you because you are beautiful,

but wanting you to be better

because you are beloved.

And I think, perhaps,

this is what it means to belong.

Not merely to be born upon your soil,

nor to know your mountains by their names,

nor to recognise the birds

by the songs they sing at dawn.

But to have been shaped by you

in ways I cannot separate from myself.

To carry your dust upon my shoes,

your heat beneath my skin,

your stories on my tongue.

To know that even if I left you,

even if I crossed the oceans

and made a life beneath another sky,

some part of me would always turn

towards the place I first called home.

So I will love you twice.

Once for the mountains,

the oceans,

the wild and golden beauty

that makes strangers fall in love with you.

And once for all the rest.

For the darkness and the dust,

the broken roads, the leaking roofs,

the grief, the anger,

the impossible, stubborn hope.

I will love you not without question,

not without anger,

not without wanting more from you.

I will love you with my eyes open.

Until loving you is no longer

something I choose to do,

but something I have become.

Until I am dust upon your wind,

earth beneath your grass,

a small and passing thing

returned at last to the land that made me.

Until there is no telling

where you end

and I begin.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious platform celebrating literary excellence. This competition invites writers and poets worldwide to showcase their creativity and storytelling prowess. Participants engage audiences with diverse themes and styles, contributing to a vibrant tapestry of contemporary literature. The event serves as a beacon for emerging and established voices, fostering a community where artistic expression and innovation are celebrated.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Katy Pastrana for her captivating contribution, "I Will Love You Twice," to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her evocative exploration of love and belonging enriches the tapestry of this esteemed event. We appreciate her dedication to the craft and look forward to witnessing how her words continue to inspire and resonate with readers around the world.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.