I miss you-Still- Always

It’s been three years.? And I can breathe again— ?most days.? I smile without faking it,? laugh without guilt.? I’ve grown.? I’ve lived.? I’ve kept going. But then,?a photo falls out of a drawer, ?or a song finds its way through the static,? and suddenly I’m back—? not broken,? but bruised.? Not drowning, ?but still feeling the weight? of everything I can’t say to you. It doesn’t hurt like it used to.? It’s quieter now,? softer somehow—? but maybe that’s what grief becomes:? a gentle ache?where the sharp edge used to be. I miss you.? Still.? Always.? But I’ve learned to carry that missing ?like a part of me— ?not a wound,?just a scar? that reminds me? you were here.? And I was loved.