Mourning Her, Becoming Me
Is it normal to mourn
the version of me that no longer exists?
To scroll through old photos
and see the spark she carried,
the fire in her smile,
and wonder where she went?
Although my flame is returning,
there was something about her
that died with the relationship
that cracked her open.
She didn’t end in destruction
she awakened.
But still,
I miss her.
Why do I miss her
if I am better now?
Why do I cry
if she had to go
so I could grow?
Why am I grieving
the one who settled,
the one who silenced her own truth,
the one who broke beneath the weight
of what she thought was love?
I think of her often.
I wish I could offer her
to someone else,
untouched, unscarred,
still shining in her innocence.
It feels like her time was wasted
yet without her choices,
without her pain,
I would not see life as I do now.
She is both the reason
for my tears
and my awakening.
I miss her,
but I know
she cannot return.
It is time to release her,
to honor her for the lessons she carried,
to thank her for the path she led me down
a path that changed me,
deepened me,
taught me how to rise.
She cannot live this new life,
but I can.
I will carry her memory,
but not her chains.
It’s time to step forward,
out of the past,
into the self she helped me become.
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