To fall in love — so simple, with you.

To climb out of love, with you — not as simple.

I’m in a state of constant flux.

Some minutes, it’s easy to exist in this world, to breathe in the air and not feel suffocated. I sat next to an old tree yesterday, brilliant in presence, even though someone went and cut them down. They gave me space to ponder, to feel my pain and not my pain, because, what is pain if not shared? If I could count their rings, I’m sure the mesmerizing circles would soothe this ache — how beautiful to see their persistence and growth tattooed within.

I feel like I’m in a time of great growth, and have been, for 2 years now. If I had rings within me, they would be fat with memories and new knowledge. It’s hard to define, but as I deepen my awareness of pain and of self, I’ve begun to see more clearly.

But, some times, it’s hard to breathe, as if my nose is stuffy with the sickening smell of decay — a body left to waste away, but within me.

As I’ve said before, and will probably say again, I don’t know how long any of this will last. I feel fine one day and as if I’ve been drop-kicked the next. I want to move past *this,* but know that, in order to do so, I need to give myself space, time. I need to let my body grieve without external pressures.

It has felt silly to me, to grieve so much because of you, but maybe that just amplifies the sweetness we shared. I wish I was more grateful for our timeline.