Where Love Heals

I woke up thinking about you.

Again.

I prayed for it to stop—
sat in church
asking for peace,
for quiet,
for just one moment
where you didn’t live in my head.

But you were still there.

And going through everything I’ve written—
all the memories—
it pulled me right back.

To you.

To what I felt with you.

And here’s the truth I don’t like to admit—

I’m not going back.

But I still wish
you would come forward.

I still wish
you would choose me.

And I know you can’t.

I know that.

And I am accepting it—
even if it doesn’t feel like acceptance yet.

Because choosing myself
sometimes looks like walking away…

while still wishing
it didn’t have to be this way.

Because maybe healing
isn’t the moment
you stop loving someone.

Maybe it’s the moment
you finally understand
that love alone
cannot hold together
what was never fully yours to keep.

And maybe grief
is just love
with nowhere left to go.

So I’ll carry it quietly now—
not as hope,
not as waiting,
but as proof
that for a moment in my life,
I felt something real.

And even if you never come back,
even if this ends here—

some part of me
will always be grateful
that it was you.

JMS