Saying Goodbye

I learned your weight in empty rooms when nights refused to pass. I carried silence in my chest like it was built to last. You taught my thoughts to move in circles, never land, never stay. Every calm felt temporary, like it’d slip away. I didn’t wake up healed or new, just less afraid to stand. Some days feel earned, some feel borrowed, like time is secondhand. I know how quickly balance breaks, how fast resolve can bend. I’ve felt you leave so quietly just to come back again. I don’t call this freedom yet, I call it forward motion. I keep my footing honest now, no blind devotion. I’m saying goodbye, slow and deliberate, learning to breathe without your weight on my chest. Saying goodbye, not slamming the door, just standing my ground when you ask for more. I stay alert. I stay awake. I know the cost of every mistake. Peace doesn’t mean I let my guard down, it means I know the signs. I don’t ignore the subtle shifts when something feels misaligned. I keep my reasons close at hand, I check my pulse at night. Not out of fear but readiness, in case you try to fight. I won’t pretend you’re gone for good. I won’t lie to myself. I’ve seen how quiet confidence can still ask for help. If you return with heavier hands, louder than before, I won’t freeze in disbelief I’ve been here once before. I’m saying goodbye, slow and deliberate, learning to breathe without your weight on my chest. Saying goodbye, not slamming the door, just standing my ground when you ask for more. This isn’t the end of the fight. It’s knowing I’m still alive. im still alive..