Hmmmm… you’re here with me, I can feel your eyes…
I’d like to tell you a little story… maybe it sounds familiar…..
They saw her smile at work.
They saw her answer every text and show up for everyone like nothing had changed.
They… didn’t see her crying in the car before she went inside.
They didn’t see how many times she almost called him, or how many nights she fell asleep wondering what was wrong with her….
Nothing was wrong with her….nothing at all…
She was grieving someone who was still alive…. and still choosing not to love her right.
There’s no funeral for that kind of loss. No one sends flowers….
No one brings food to the door or asks how she’s holding up. People just expect her to be over it, because he didn’t die. He just left, or stayed in a way that felt like leaving….
She carries it alone.
She mourns that shit…. the man she thought he was.
She mourns the future she planned around him.
Fuck….. she mourns the version of herself who believed love would be enough.
And still, she falls into her dreams… she gets up in the morning….
She makes her coffee. She keeps going!!
She’s letting go, slowly and quietly, and she’s coming back to herself.
If that woman is you, I see what it cost you. And you’re allowed to grieve it. You’re allowed to see yourself fully without shame…
when you’re ready to come back to yourself, the full return to yourself is here. both journals, 60 days, start tonight.
