Resilient? 
***** resilient. 
I don’t feel resilient. 
I feel alone, confused. 
I feel pain. 
I feel pain now as if I had never felt pain before. 
I feel my lungs, aching to cease movement being the first thing I notice every morning. 
I feel the way barbed wire tangles itself around my ribs and pulls in. 
I feel the tears on my face when I wake up in the middle of the night, panting, as though I’ve just been submerged in a lake of ice. 
I feel the memory of you. 
I hear the memory of you. 
You are in every call my phone receives, every text that comes in. 
You are in every place I go. 
Things you’ve said. 
The way you laugh. 
The way we were. 
I remember the first time we told each other we loved each other. 
And the hiding us from our families. 
I remember the late nights and the ungodly early mornings. 
I remember falling in love with you. 
I remember all of the arguments, the eye rolls, the times apart. 
I remember the way you made me feel like I didn’t want to want to die anymore. 
The way you could make me smile with just a sigh. 
The way you turn me into putty. 
I remember being yours. 
How territorial you get. 
How you always listen. 
I remember the plans we made. 
The life we wanted. 
I remember us. 
The couple our friends were jealous of. 
The fairy tale story we wanted to tell our grandchildren. 
I remember who I was with you. 
Who I wanted to be. 
How you made me softer but somehow stronger. 
How you taught me to love without being scared. 
How I loved you and I wasn’t scared. 
Because I had you. And it was us.
So no. I don’t feel resilient. I feel battered and broken. I feel tired.