I wish I could

I wish I could promise
that I will never return there
never fold myself
into someone else’s shadow again,
never call losing myself
“love.”

But I don’t have that kind of certainty.

There is still a part of me
that remembers how it felt—
the pull,
the intensity,
the way one person
became an entire world.

And that part of me…
it hasn’t disappeared.

It just stands quieter now,
watching.

So I live in this in-between—
not who I was,
not fully who I’m trying to be,
but aware enough
to feel the tension of both.

I am unsure.
I am afraid.

Not of loving
but of forgetting myself
while I do.

Yet somewhere inside this doubt,
there is something new growing—
not a promise,
not a guarantee,
just a pause.

A small moment
between feeling and falling.

And maybe that is enough.

Maybe I don’t need to be certain
I’ll never lose myself again

maybe I just need to trust
that if I do…

I won’t stay lost
as long as I used to.