I came across a picture today,
a moment frozen, bright and full of life.
She was smiling—so effortlessly,
like the past never weighed her down.

She found her way, I see it now,
embracing all the things she left behind.
The hobbies she once set aside,
the laughter she forgot how to share—
they are hers again, and they shine.

But where does that leave me?
The one left behind, standing still,
watching from a distance,
realizing that I have nothing,
not even a place to start.

She rediscovered herself,
while I am still sifting through ruins,
searching for pieces of me
that I never thought I’d have to rebuild.

I was always a part of something,
tied to a life that no longer exists.
Now, I face the question I never dared ask:
Who am I, when I am only me?

The world moves forward, time doesn’t wait,
and I know I must start again.
But every step feels heavier,
every day feels longer,
and the path ahead is one I have to carve alone.

Maybe one day, I’ll understand.
Maybe one day, I’ll smile like that too.
But for now, I am just trying—
trying to begin from nothing.