Held Without Fear

and others, I wake up aching for something I can't hold anymore. It's like standin

efore him. For months, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy the things we didn't share. It felt like betraying the bond we ha

s he

oo-that silence is loud. It crept in during the afternoons when work ended early. During late evenings whe

e muscle memor

nce, I began to h

e

cial media posts. "Want to come to my art class this weekend?" she wrote. I stared at the

aid

ing against the walls, and sunlight poured in through wide windows like hope. Mara met

moved. My hands took over where words couldn't. Blues and golds and g

Not just closed my

beginning o

d flowers. Or skies. Or just brushstrokes that looked like freedom. Mara never aske

y feels like when no one is watching. The guilt. The relief. The joy that sneaks in when you least expect it. I didn't expect anyone to read

so much-but I was connectin

rozen kind I used to settle for when he wasn't here to shop with me. A man was singing with a guitar on a corner,

e apologized quickly, offering a warm smile. "D

t's okay. I like

ic spark. Just a moment. A reminder that the wor

exted Mara: "I

t how?" s

t just survi

growth, babe. You're watering

. Not out of sadness-bu

ing his face in the crowd. Some nights I still dreamed of him, but they didn't haunt me the

t empty anymore. It was space. Ro

look like the girl who was grieving anymore. My eyes were softer. My posture stronger

the version of yourself wh

lor-violet, soft and full of possibili

broken. We'

ife isn't all that bad, when you've got the right things, yh it's been tough to let g

welcome anytime...and so I left with a new kind of joy, a new kind of fee