I can see the dark clouds disappearing,
it feels like the first sign of spring.
But I haven’t come back home yet.
I’m so close.
I’ve come so far from crying so hard I thought someone might call the cops;
in a house that belonged to the person I hated.
I did anything to try to forget or fill that empty hole in my heart.
I couldn’t eat or sleep so I replaced it with thin white lines and alcohol and that didn’t help either.
My friends had no clue what to say to me but I’m grateful that they tried.
I disassociated while my brain replayed my nightmares, so I lost my job because they saw I wasn’t there.
I texted my mom that I needed to move back in because I hit the bottom and lost everything.

But I’ve been climbing and fighting my way back up. I really thought that pain would never go away but I can finally see the sun peaking through the cracks.
I don’t want to say, “it gets better” but it does.
It took me 7 months to get here, and I still have a long way to go.