I heal when I can remember the hurt.
But the hurt isn’t me. I can move through. Cry. Laugh. Survive.
I heal when I can remember him.
Soft browns. Sweet hugs. The birth of love.
Anchored in the present.
I heal when I give myself grace and stop the restless chatter.
Be better. Do Better. Do more. Take care of more people. Don’t let anyone feel disappointment or pain. Prove you have value.
I heal when I listen to my soul.
Move. Sleep. Get lost in colors. Be in the sun. Have a day without a single plan.
I heal when I am me.
In slow motion with soft, blurry edges.