There were days
I was certain
life had mistaken me
for someone stronger.
Days that arrived
with empty hands
and still managed
to take something.
I thought survival
would feel heroic.
Instead,
it looked like
getting out of bed,
answering one more call,
believing tomorrow
might soften
what today could not.
I used to wish
I could erase
every wrong turn,
every goodbye,
every crack
that split my heart open.
But standing here now,
I wouldn’t.
Because the road
I begged to escape
became the one
that led me home.
The broken places
didn’t ruin the journey.
They taught me
how to recognize
what was worth keeping.
And after everything,
after all the endings
I thought would become me,
I have learned the biggest lesson.
Love was never waiting
at the finish line.
It was there
every time
I chose kindness
instead of bitterness,
hope instead of fear,
an open heart
instead of a guarded one.
Maybe that is
what saves us.
Not a life
without sorrow,
but a heart
that keeps choosing love,
again
and again,
until one day
you look around
at the life
you thought
you’d never have,
and realize
even the hardest miles
were carrying you here.
Jacque Michele
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