Father, don't go.
Mother, don't go.
Lover, don't go.

The moment he stopped looking at me as if I was something precious was not the moment my heart broke.

The moment she stopped waking me from sleep with a kiss to my forehead was not the moment my heart broke.

No, neither of these were the moment. I did break, yes, but I continued to move forward in increments.

When I gazed into the mirror and didn't recognize the face looking at back at me...

That was the moment.
I stroked a hand across the glass, touching the stranger's skin.
But that's all she was to me. A stranger.