Dear friend,
I have been swimming in denial for a long time, and when I finally hit the shore, reality crashed in.
I have processed that I live in a stranger’s body, a stranger’s mind.
I have not lost some parts, but too many that I cannot connect the remaining ones together.
Who am I?
I have no idea. No clue.
I was someone two weeks ago, someone I can easily describe to you. However, today, I’m nothing. How can I describe a nothing?
Empty, lonely? Maybe. But not sad, no.
I don’t know, I cannot understand me enough to describe her, to describe who she has become, or still yet to become.
Whenever I think about who I am becoming, I end up with different cliffhangers.
I’m not a complete story, not just yet. It’s not my time to learn about who I will be.
For now, I’ll continue swimming in denial, hoping when I hit the shore again, I’ll hit the right one, and then I’ll understand my reality a lot more.

Stone columns lined the nave,
graced by a stained warmth.
Yet, as I stood in the crossing
the silence was coarse.

Emeralds and white linen
fasten to your stare.
Like rusting leaves to the coastal breath,
like your words to air.

Dear ex,
Goodbyes. I have never experienced them on a high level, not when my aunt passed away this year, not when friends ghosted me, not when I lost so many parts of me.
I never truly knew what Goodbyes felt like, until I said my first and last one to you.
At first, I didn’t feel anything. In fact, I have not cried about it, yet. I don’t know if I will or not. I don’t know if I’m holding myself back or not. I do know, though, that I’m not in denial.
I have accepted my decision. I have accepted that I have to learn to keep your presence as a memory, and absence as a reality. The thought of you still brings me pain, and that’s a confirmation that I’m not over you just yet. I have accepted that I have to live with the thought of always wondering if that was the right thing or not, if I have truly hurt you or you were just trying to guilt me. I’ll have to live with too many questions, too many cliffhangers. However, it’s fine by me. I won’t dwell myself in the past, I won’t dwell myself in you.
I’m slowly learning who I am without you. I’m slowly opening myself, allowing myself to not be held back. I’m slowly growing a new skin that you have not touched. I’m slowly losing the parts you gave me. I’m slowly becoming who I truly am when I am not sad. I’m slowly flourishing. I’m slowly growing. I’m slowly healing, far from you, without you.
With all the love you’ll never have,
Raghad

So this is it then? The dreams realized? The thoughts fulfilled?

What happened? The lust has shrunk and shrunk. The emotion is gone.

Tired all the time.
Depressed.

Is this you? Please tell me it's not.

I stopped writing love poetry when I met you
It seemed a farce, writing something for years I thought unobtainable yet there you stood
Despite all odds I went against personal judgement and we made small talk for a few hours
You drove, introducing me to Brian Fallon songs I’d grow to attribute to our relationship
My thoughts had become consumed with your image yet nothing I could do would eventually prevent you from leaving
Time had been nothing but a blimp, we lived years through the minuscule moments we occupied the same space together
A lifetime of love crammed into a solid year and a half.
Love is undoubtedly heartbreaking when it leaves you,
Silence envelopes to be mailed out at will
You were my greatest love poem, but my words never did our magic justice.

I wrote it all down
What I wanted to tell you
About how sorry I was
And how much I wanted you back

But I left it in my car
As I set it on fire

So now we’re back to step one
And we have a few more to add
To the unsent love letters

Silky, red-ribboned Fate.
You shine bright,
Wrapped tight around,
This silent stack of letters.
They now smell of sunlight.
Instead of the damp and dark.