I could name all the bad things you did, but I need to remember the good ones. Not to magnify you. Not for me to miss you. But to be honest with myself that you were once, for so long, my rock.
Thank you that you were —
my shadow in the absence of light.
My compass.
Dusk. Rest. Home.
Throughout my losses, you offered nothing but love.
You consoled me. You helped me survive the toughest days of my life.
When she left home, you showed up.
You show up every single time without me calling your name.
Thank you for the letters you wrote.
For the dishes you cooked.
For the cups of coffee we shared.
For the songs you bravely sang — out of tune.
For the flowers you plucked randomly outside.
For the late-night drives.
For the books you read because I insisted you should.
For the series we binged-watch.
For the midnights we laughed without a sound.
For picking me up earlier than dismissal.
For drying my tears away,
for crying with me.
For your prayers I eavesdropped.
For the promises you kept and even the ones you needed to break.
For being my greatest fan, supporter, protector.
For teaching me to love that great.
You were a part of me, and I was of you. Were, was.
What an ending we wrote.
Finally, though. Finally.
We have been waiting for this.
I had you once and you had me once. That is enough.
No more trying, no more insisting – no us in this lifetime.
And in another life, I do not want our paths to cross again.
In another life, let’s become strangers.
grace 