22. The Last Goodbye

I thought loving you was home,

but really I was giving myself away

to walls that kept closing in.

What I called devotion

was me staying quiet,

holding back a thousand words

I never said.

Yes, it hurt to leave.

But the hurt opened space

for light to reach me,

for breath to stretch further

than your shadow allowed.

I won’t hate what we had.

You were a lesson written deep,

a bruise that taught me care,

a fire that showed me

how to cool my own hands.

Now, I let go.

Not for you,

for me.

For the girl who stayed too long,

for the woman who finally left,

for the soul that deserves to grow

where love does not ache.