This is me moving on. This is me accepting the ache of missing you. This is me waking up every single day and tackling the street corners we walked upon, the corner coffee shops we ate at, the sheets we wrapped ourselves in at night. This is me waking up every single day, aware of what is missing, but accepting of the fact that this is my life now, that this is the way things are going to be. This is me understanding that it is okay to have my heartbeat speak your name. This is me understanding that it is okay to miss someone who was once such a staple in my life. But this is also me understanding that life does go on. That one day I will hear the songs and smile, I will sleep in the sheets and they will no longer smell like you; one day I will fall in love again, one day I will look back on this and my hands will not shake with the heaviness of it all.
This is me moving on. This is me accepting the fact that we will no longer make memories together. This is me coming to terms with the reality of a future without you. This is me understanding that you will do everything we had ever spoken about — you will live a life you are proud of, you will become the person you told me you hoped you could be, you will take the trips, you will experience all of the things you wanted to experience, you will love — deeply, and wholly and with every inch of your patchwork heart, but all of that will happen without me by your side.
This is me moving on. This is me accepting that you will, as well. This is me coming to terms with the fact that someone else is going to fall in love with your light, that someone else is going to be your biggest fan. This is me hoping that you will find the love you deserve. This me me hoping that you will find someone who inspires you and moves you and appreciates every stunning thing you are. This is me hoping that you find someone who stirs the deepest parts of your being, someone who is both your safe place and your biggest adventure. This is me hoping that you are happy, truly happy, one day.
This is me moving on. This is me accepting that sometimes beautiful things end. This is me understanding that there is nothing I can say, or do, to fix that. This is me coming to terms with the fact that sometimes leaving is an act of love, too. That sometimes you have to walk away from something soft and hauntingly real, that sometimes hearts don’t align. But this is me accepting that endings don’t have to be messy. This is me understanding how incredible it really is — that for a moment in time, in a world of billions, two strangers were in the right place, at the right time, and something transpired between them. This is my heart swelling with the thought — that at one point in time, we were the lucky ones. At one point in time, we beat the odds.
Read more writing like this in Bianca Sparacino’s book Seeds Planted In Concrete here.