This emptiness hurts but what’s more painful is my ability to remember each and everything in detail. On some days when i feel being eaten up or consumed whole by this loneliness of those silent moments, I revisit those memories we made together, to seek solace. But after reaching there I realise the *solace* I am searching does not live there anymore. It does not exist in those ruins. It is nowhere to be found.
And going back there makes me feel stuck, like I am glued to the place that now exists only in my memory.
The realisation of this reality is what’s more terrifying and it’s acceptance even more brutal. But I know this acceptance is important for me to bloom again, into the wildflower that I once used to be.