I Am Not Afraid To Let You Go

I am not afraid to shed the skin that once was warm with your touch. The familiarity I wore like an extra layer—one, for the longest time, I was too stubborn to take off.

I am not afraid to shrug the ghost of you from my shoulders, feel my nakedness open and exposed.

I am not afraid to unlearn the gentleness of your hands intertwined with mine, the arms that found their way around my middle, pulling me closer to you.

I am not afraid to forget the way your lips spoke love to me with every kiss, and how each embrace told a story, one that only the two of us could understand.

I am not afraid to wash the smell of you away—with soap, with tenderness, with patience. To watch the water run over my skin, a cleansing, a release from all that was.

I am not afraid to let the warmth scorch into my skin, set the cells on fire, burn the memory of you. Then rinse. And watch you leave me for good.

I am not afraid to run my fingertips over the base of my neck, my arms, my hands—to trace new acceptance and care in all the ways you didn’t. To rewrite the path of serotonin from brain to body, teaching me how to be happy again. This time without you.

I am no longer sad, no longer harboring the weight of a broken promise, no longer clinging to the person I thought you were, the connection I thought we had. I am no longer aching with our memories, watching them like a broken filmstrip reel, rewinding and restarting over and over again.

I am no longer frozen with the constant reminder of you, waking up and seeing your face, falling asleep to your voice in my dreams.

Time has passed, my heart has healed, and all my love for you has dissipated in the winter air—no longer a part of me.

And I am finally okay, finally ready, finally unafraid to let you go.

I promise there is no bitterness, no anger, no pain. There is no malice, no negative words, no deceit. I have simply come to terms with the fact that you and I are no longer integral parts of one another’s lives. We are spots on each other’s timelines—moments where we both stopped, learned, loved, grew, broke, and restarted—and now we continue forward with the memories.

I am no longer afraid of releasing my hold, unclenching my fist, watching you soar away from me. I am no longer afraid of seeing you move on, and learning to move on myself, without the weight of us on my shoulders. I am no longer afraid to let go of you.

You are free now, but so am I.