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I denied moving on, even while moving forward.

I spent my days trying to learn how to feel comfortable again.
Trying to belong inside my own life, once again.

Yet somehow,
it felt strange to be seen.

I felt guilty, and wrong, and unfair.

At that time, I didn’t even know why.
But looking back now,
maybe there were many things underneath it.

At first, I thought it was because I never truly let him go.
Not even from the very beginning.

But if I’m more honest,
maybe it was because I let myself drown in my own sins.

And so I didn’t believe I was worthy.
And before I could even name it,
the guilt turned into fear.

I became afraid of anyone who seemed to care.
I enjoyed the affection,
but it couldn’t fill the hollow inside me.

I grew anxious,
afraid they would one day find out how terrible I was.

So I didn’t step away slowly, or leave gently.
I cut the cord the moment they came too close.

I panicked.
I froze.
I trembled.
And then,
I ran.

Hurting more hearts,
and carrying the shards with me.

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