We’ve lived a thousand lives together in these six years.
Saturday mornings with coffee and pancakes,
Lazy football Sundays snuggled in bed.
Pokémon walks in the park,
Library dates where the world slowed down.
Call of Duty nights where laughter curled up between us like a blanket,
and mornings where your sleepy face was the only sunrise I needed.
I’ve loved you in the loud ways,
holding you through your storms,
fighting for us when the ground shook.
And I’ve loved you in the quiet ways,
washing & folding your favorite blanket,
always saving the last bite for you,
love letters to read when your heart needs reminding that you’re loved,
leaving your toiletries out so it would feel like home when you came back.
You were my favorite story to tell,
You are also my deepest ache to feel.
I believed in you, even when others didn’t.
I waited through silences that felt like winters,
hoping spring would come and you’d choose me with your heart on your sleeve.
But, I’ve learned that love alone can’t hold up the roof on the home we built.
It needs truth. It needs action. It needs sometimes choosing someone other than yourself.
And somewhere along the way, you stopped doing all those things and started becoming her.
Now I find myself taking the pictures off the wall for the second time,
folding your clothes into boxes and bags,
removing you piece by piece from my inner world.
Deleting your photos from my instagram profile.
I keep asking myself what to do with the letters you wrote me,
the concert tickets from our first date,
the dried petals from the flowers you used to send,
the Disney pins from our honeymoon, our once “happily ever after.”
Where do all these treasures go when you’re supposed to stop treasuring the person who gave them all to you?
How do you bury a love that’s still alive in your chest?
not because my love for you has ended, but because I can’t keep breaking myself and the kids to keep holding the pieces of YOU together.
I want you to remember that I’ll never stop rooting for you. That even when I was devastated, I still saw the best parts in you.
I hope one day, when the noise quiets and life finally softens around you,
and remember the girl who loved you without conditions,
who would have moved mountains for you,
who kept the porch light on long after she should have gone inside and climbed into her empty bed.
I’ll miss you in a thousand small ways, for a long time.
Finally, I’m releasing the grip, opening my hands and letting you drift, even though every part of me still wanted to hold on. I’m finally aligning with what you always wanted. May the tides be kind to you.
Forever Goodbye, my love.
