I used to look at you and wonder: what would I do without you? I would tell you that I didn’t remember how I was before you came into my life. I’d always ask myself how I really knew what living was— what loving was— before I met you.

I found a note I had shared with you, then secretly stuffed back into a journal of mine. I told you: “I can’t imagine what I would do without you.” Now, I look around… and you’re not there. Somehow we ran away from each other: from what was real. And I find myself sitting alone on the end of my bed and I realize that I am now living in what was the unimaginable. I am living without you. You still lie in shadows and secret vaults kept hidden away. You wait for me when I least expect it, and break my heart when I awake from dreaming. But, here, now, in reality, you are gone. You left. You ran as far away as you could, unknowingly carrying pieces of my soul: bits of hopes and slivers of dreams. And now. Now, I am living in what used to be an unimagined, terrifying, would-be nightmare— and yet, it is far from the foreboding, lonely plain that I always expected. It is rich and it is full. And somehow, I find, day after day, that life is worth living…without you. People are worth loving… even if it’s not you. I still feel the sting, the fear, the disappointment, at times— but time itself will heal those, and soon pain becomes memories, and memories fade.

One day, you too will fade from memory. And I will remember and see what I did without you. I will have found life worth living, and people worth loving, even though you were not there.


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