Still Broken Still Loving

Still Broken, Still Loving It’s crazy, really— how I feel when you’re near. Emotions wake like soft waves, reminding me that love is real. Then life rushes in— the noise, the weight, the endless lists that blur my name. I forget to pause, to breathe myself back into being. By the time I drop Zoey off, I am a ghost of motion, a tired mother turned quiet air— wanting only to melt into nothing for a moment. Some days, I feel numb. It startles me, this emptiness, because once I was light— warm, open, giving. But years of marriage and loss have tinted my heart, and I am still learning to restore the shape of me. I chase my passions, carry the weight alone, haunted by hidden things, by absence, by Jason’s passing. And somewhere inside— I’m lost, but trying. I do love you. Please know that. It’s not the absence of feeling, but the struggle to show it, to trust the safety of love again. Your words reached me— made me smile, made me cry— because I felt something honest, alive. And even broken as I am, I love you still. Maybe that is the truest part of me left.