Surviving Heartbreak

Where We Meet

I've spent months rebuilding,
putting the pieces of my past into place,
and now, when you look at me,
I wonder if you see it too—
the space between who I was
and who I've become.

You've always known how to love me,
but I was new to the idea of it.
I thought love was something that only grew,
in family, in friends,
but with you, it felt different—
as if love had a language
I hadn't learned yet.

Now I've changed,
and I think you're waiting to see it,
waiting to see if the person I've become
can still love the way we did,
in the way that once felt like home.

I'm afraid.
Afraid of slipping back,
into old patterns that don't serve me,
afraid of losing what we've rebuilt now,
afraid of falling for the way you used to look at me,
the way your smile feels like
a spark I can't seem to extinguish.

But in this space,
I'm learning how to love differently,
how to hold you without losing myself,
how to let you go without letting go of me.

Maybe we both needed to change
so that we could be who we are,
when we meet again,
and love,
with all that we've learned.

—MistakenGenius