I Was Finally Okay
I was finally okay.
Not in some dramatic, movie-ending way
but in the quiet way.
The way my chest didn’t feel so tight.
The way my mornings didn’t start with your name.
I was getting used to being me again.
I started laughing without checking
if it would’ve made you laugh too.
I stopped replaying old conversations
like they were prayers
I could rewrite into something softer.
I was healing.
Slowly.
Honestly.
And then you appeared.
Not with love.
Not with apologies.
Not with anything that belonged to the past.
Just…
a question.
a favor.
a need.
Like I was a door you could still knock on
just because you remembered the address.
And suddenly,
it felt like the ground moved.
Two steps forward
and somehow
three steps back,
not because I wanted you,
but because you reminded my mind
how easily it can reopen a chapter
I fought so hard to close.
I don’t want you back.
I want my peace back.
I want the version of me
who wasn’t scanning every notification
like it might be another disruption.
I want to stop thinking of you
like an unfinished sentence.
You don’t get to keep returning
just to take something
and leave me with the echoes.
I was doing so well.
And now I’m stuck
not in love,
but in the aftermath.
Trying to remember
how to feel normal again
after you reminded me
you still exist.
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