Grief
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If I had to live my life again, I would make most of the same decisions. There might be a few minor tweaks, but the larger choices would stay. They shaped me into the person I am, and I am proud of that person. Still, there are experiences that leave me feeling I missed a…
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I am doing well. Quietly. Steadily. There is acceptance. There is a thin thread of hope. There is adventure of a sort. The path that brought me here was not clean. I cut the relationships that kept the grief looping and refused to let me leave. That part is finished. To stay in motion I…
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I have gone through a volatile time in the last few months. And I accepted the end. And I have to live in the present. I won’t romanticise the pain. I will romanticise the acceptance. Another take on snow patrols classic: If I lay hereIf i just lay hereYou will not lie with meYou will…
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I wrote one final message to her. Not out of desperation, not to win her back, not even because the silence had become too loud. I wrote it because some things need to be said — not for the other person, but so your own heart can finally exhale. The message was sent months ago,…
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There is a bench next to a pond I often sit at before ending my day. It’s quiet, secluded, peaceful. Sometimes I wish you were next to me. Sometimes I think about us. Sometimes it feels empty. And sometimes the same question returns like an old friend who never learned to leave: Do I miss…
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A quiet lament written in the immediate aftermath of letting go – when the world still carries your warmth, but it is no longer for me.
