I wish I could stop missing you. I wish I could stop playing through scenarios of what could have been and where it all went wrong. I wish I could just move on. I wish I could just let go of you, of us. But, in this moment, wishing for things is all there is, because reality is that in this space is where I am. I still love you, I still wonder what made you give up, and I still resent fear for digging its claws in you and us. I’m still healing from heartbreak, and it feels like it’s taking way to long. I should be over you by now. The fact that I’m not, shows me the kind of love I gave to you- the kind that encompassed every bit of my vulnerability in opening my heart to you.
Even though I feel this way, it comes in waves- at least it’s not a permanent state. It peaks in the midst of loneliness and fear. I have chosen to stay and show up for myself instead of chasing the next thrill of adventure to numb the pain of heartbreak. I have chosen to find strength in patience. Truly honoring and listening to me, my gut, no one else.
There is strength in staying, in growing roots a bit deeper, flirting with new passions, living in the uncomfortable space that is all of me. Strength in becoming more comfortable with who I am, what I want, what I need, and what I deserve in love. Love in relationships, career, places; the work is in aligning them with self.
So yes, I miss you and I’m still allowing myself grace as I go through the process of unloving you. It still hurts, I’m still uncomfortable, I’m slowly accepting things for what they are instead of letting go, I’m still raw, but I’m also still here. I’ve shown up for myself in the midst of everything. Thank you for not choosing me, because it brought me closer to myself- my own truth- here within wanderlust and salty.