For the Ones We Still Miss (Even After We’ve Moved On)
I told myself I was done.
That I’d closed the door,
turned the page,
rewritten the ending in my own voice.
And yet—
Some nights,
grief sneaks in like a soft shadow
and whispers your name into the hollow places.
I don’t miss the chaos.
I don’t miss the ache of staying too long.
But I miss… you.
Or maybe the us that almost was.
I miss the way your laugh settled into my bones.
The way we talked like the world had no edges.
The comfort of familiar arms, even when they couldn’t hold me right.
And I hate that missing doesn’t mean returning.
That closure doesn’t mean forgetting.
That healing doesn’t erase the echo.
I still wonder why.
Why we didn’t make it.
Why love wasn’t enough.
Why I gave so much, and it still slipped away.
But maybe some questions were never meant to be answered.
Maybe they were meant to soften me instead of solve me.
So here I am—
Still healing.
Still whole.
Still holding space for the parts of me that once held you.
And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe I can miss you…
and still choose me.
.
.
.
A Lullaby for the One Who Loved Deeply
Shh, sweet soul.
You’ve done enough for today.
Enough wondering, enough aching,
enough carrying the weight of “why.”
Let the questions go.
Let them drift like petals on water—
no answers needed tonight.
Just quiet. Just breath. Just being.
You loved the best way you knew how—
with tenderness, with fire,
with a heart wide open,
even when it hurt.
That love didn’t vanish.
It lives in who you’ve become.
Not because she stayed,
but because you stayed—with yourself.
So close your eyes, love.
Let the ache be held, not fixed.
Let the moon witness your softness.
Let sleep carry what you no longer have to.
You are not too much.
You are not forgotten.
You are not alone.
You are healing.
You are sacred.
You are so deeply loved.