Held Without Fear

ind of light that blurs dreams into memory, and for a moment I forget we aren't us anymore. I still reach for my phone, half-expecting a "Good m

chats and watching saved videos. In one, he's in bed, tousled hair and sleep in his eyes, whispering, "Wish you were here." In

permanence. And laught

both made breakfast on video call, racing to see who'd burn theirs first. The blue mug in my cabinet-the one he pick

ting. But grief is strange. Some days, I feel okay. Almost light. And then a st

r. So I did the one thing I never thou

simple, necessary act of care. I didn't tell anyone. I wasn't ready for the questions

t scent of lavender. I sat on the couch like a guest in someone else'

ith him. But instea

e the world keeps spinning," I said.

l me about the h

About the sacrifices we made for time zones-me staying up past midnight, him waking up at dawn, both of us fighting sleep just to see each other's face.

person," I whisper

y always do when the words

hat should've made it easier to let go. But it

h me. She just let the silence fill

healed. Not whole. But lighter. Like I had uncl

in months. I didn't write about him. I wrote about

ad of sad songs. I noticed how the air smelled-crisp, new. For a moment, I let myse

e break. But the version of him who held me to

ink I al

love and the loss. Sometimes it means letting the

t comes next. Bu

till

ill br

ounts for

we once FaceTimed for hours, and my hands tingled like they were waiting to hold his. I ordered his

m. Like changing the ringtone that used to be his song. Like standing in front of

still want to do-things I put on hold when he became my whole world. Learn to paint.

u can do is remember who you were b

l who waited for video calls at 3 a.m., who believed love was enough, who forg

't miss him. It just

little, I'm fi

n't lie it hurts, it's h