On a warm full moon night,
wrapped in a soft, golden glow,
She asked the universe for help
in letting go of what no longer nurtured her soul.
Before long, the silence from you became palpable.
At first, it stung, but by the time the new moon appeared,
She had come to embrace the peace that clarity brought.
She found a serene tranquility in the empty spaces, a calmness that soothes her soul.
She repeats this mantra, hoping to manifest, but sees no results.
Do her words need to align with her heart's desire?

As I sift through my bathroom shelves,
I ponder over items I made space for, but never used,
Why did I accept what didn't work for me in the first place?
As if with passing time, our chemistry will change.
As if I will come to appreciate that strawberry lotion,
Or the beige foundation sample will grow to blend with my darker skin tone.
Three bags of discarded items later, I gain clarity.
I will be discerning about what I welcome into my space
To only hold space for - what brings me joy.
To only entertain what truly resonates with my spirit.

Recognizing your need to heal and grow,
I gently stepped back.
Not because my love for you had faded,
But, out of love - to protect our bond
Before bitterness could consume it entirely.
I created space for self-love.
Alongside the love I hold for you.
Even if our paths don't cross again,
I will be the keeper of what remains of our story.

Those cursed with the soul of a nomad,  
Thrive on the adventure of each new road.  
Fearful of settling at a final destination,  
They steer clear of any stagnation.  
Avoidants are the type they tend to seek,
Hoping this path leads to the ultimate peak.

26th day of sobriety, of self-respect  
Detox can be spirit-breaking.  
It often feels like a slow death.  
The cravings pulse with each heartbeat,  
leaving you drained,  
urging you to reach out —  
perhaps by texting, sending an emoji,  
Or maybe just "liking" a post
Consumed by the need to stay attached to what is familiar.  

You dwell on old messages,  
waver between memories of sweetness and pain.  
But one day,  
You find the strength to release them.  
You erase the old threads,  
delete the contact,  
and reclaim yourself.  
You might still relapse  
until you learn to recognize the red flags  
and to stand tall in your conviction  
to avoid repeating the toxic cycle.

Which heartache is worse: failing in love or failing to love? Did you find peace by surrendering to fear - abandoning the spark of your dreams before they even had a chance to begin? Tell me, was it worth it?