I have loved so deeply that when he left, he took with me the air I breathed, left only an ocean of tears that pooled at my feet.
I have loved so cautiously that I found myself in a dark room, wandering around without even a flicker of light, wondering what if.
I have loved so poorly that when I looked in the mirror each morning I didn’t recognize myself, my skin was so hard that vulnerability had no chance of breathing.
I have loved, and I have loved, and I have loved.
But I wonder, how much have I lost? The parts of me that once believed in true love, in monogamy, in trusting someone completely, they are no longer present.
I try and go backwards, searching for them in my ocean, in my dark room, in my reflection.
Going backwards serves no one. I must let go of what was and accept what is.
I am a marble statue in a dark ocean. I must have faith in what will be, a dancer on the beach, wind in my hair and warmth on my skin.