Once, there was someone I loved, and that someone built me up until I stood tall and (almost) strong, (almost) stable. I thought they would be part of my life forever.
But sometimes, we lose people to seasons. For whatever reason, the promises of “I’m here to stay.” wear away until they are only words. You take the scaffolding off of the building and the building has to stand on its own.
I only see that person now in photos and tight smiles and notes that dart past on my newsfeed, addressing people who might as well be strangers. We might as well be strangers. But, even with that distance, there are still lessons they’re teaching me.
I’m learning to see, even after someone leaves, you aren’t made less for their leaving.
When the person I loved left, I had to take the scaffolding off. On my own. It hurt so much that I thought I wasn’t strong enough, that I would fall apart. But, after, when the metal had given way, and the dust had settled, and the earth stopped shaking…I found that I’d remained.
For those who have loved, and lost, and at the end, find.