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just because it’s lost doesn’t mean we know how to let it go. and hearts splinter trying to make room for everything. “the ones we love never really leave” she whispered in my ear unexpectedly… | Secret Keepers by Emily Joy Rosen

just because
it’s lost
doesn’t mean
we know
how to let it go

and hearts splinter
trying to make room
for everything

“the ones we love
never really leave”
she whispered in my ear
unexpectedly

and tears

i hadn’t been able to cry
for days

the news came
crashing in
reminding me
that loss
is always
a possibility

and i had since
been planning
my numbing
intentionally
growing cold
on the inside

i wonder why
we ever love
i thought
wandering the streets

i spent a lot of time
wandering
that summer

remembering how
as a little girl
when i was stuck
my mom had me
stay in motion

keep moving, emily
i would say
as i woke each morning
dreading
feeling

i don’t know what is harder
to lose someone to death
or to betrayal

i have experienced both
and there is something
about the living loss
that is just so uniquely hard

it’s amazing
the mind can go most anywhere
but when in suffering
we can often
find ourselves
replaying memories
that only make it harder
to breathe

i would flash often
to the day we first kissed
and then before
i could even exhale
see him looking at me
so hatefully
as he slammed
the door
leaving
me

my memories
haunted me
and i had no idea
i could choose
to think something different
i had no idea
this wasn’t going to be
a forever thing

all i knew is
i never wanted to feel
this much pain
again
ever

“just let it go”
friends would say

and i isolated
because i didn’t understand
how they could speak that to me

i was planning to hold on dearly
to every drop of hurt
till i was certain
i would never again
get myself
into this
situation

how did i miss it
i would think
when did he fall
out of love
with me

i would spend hours
retracing memories
looking for clues
in foggy rememberings

till months went by
and i realized
i was touching crazy

some people
get in more
they touch
the most tender places
and we feel seen
on the inside

and it makes sense
that when someone
gets in so deep
letting go
feels like
bleeding
out

and it makes sense
that we question
if we will survive

because when
something
happens
that makes
our most precious
memories
become questions

it can feel
like we are
going
crazy

how long
was i living
in a reality
that wasn’t
what it seemed

how long
was he
making love to me
and wishing
it wasn’t me

how long
was he
pretending

was he always
was he never
feeling the words
he said to me

and it feels like the worst
kind of dream
where you can’t tell
if it’s real
or if you’re still sleeping

some days
i would have
given everything
to wake
and find myself
before we met

some days
i would have
given up
all my sweet memories
to wipe the slate clean

but then
one day
in my wanderings
i wandered into the street
and the next thing
i remember
was screeching

brakes being pushed hard
and someone yelling
“what the heck
are you thinking”

i was almost hit by a car
and i got scared
and present

that night
i sat in my bed
legs extended
staring at my knees

i have a large scar
on my right knee
from falling
when running
as a little girl

they gave me
18 stitches
and my parents
let me stay in bed
and watch movies
and eat cookies

i hated the scar at first
thinking it ugly
it was purple when cold
and kids would always ask me
what happened
to my knee

always a storyteller
i would explain
dramatically
how i fell into a pit
of sharp rocks
and bled through
my turquoise leggings

and other children
seemed impressed
with me
and my heroic
journey
because even after
i fell
i kept running

this is a different kind of scar
i thought
it’s on the inside
where no one can see

and i suppose
that is why i feel so alone
and almost crazy
because no one is asking me
why i have
this big
scar
that seems so obvious
to me

and so they are talking to me
as if all is “normal”
because they cannot see
i am still bleeding
they cannot see
how deeply
this one cut me

i wonder what story
i would tell
if someone asked me
i thought

remembering how
i would get creative
with the story
of how i hurt my knee

remembering how
eventually
i was actually glad
it happened to me

i wonder if i can do that
with my heart
i thought
i wonder what story
would help me be grateful
that he left me

and so began
the letting go

and so began
the reclaiming
of my memories

piece by piece
till changed
and yet the same
girl as before
i learned
how to let go
of what was
lost to me

❤️ emily joy rosen

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