When you left me, I stopped writing about the flutter in my chest.
I stopped writing about how I’ve never experienced such a high.
I stopped writing about the love you threw at me.
When you left me, I wrote about the screaming echo inside my ribcage.
I wrote about how you ripped the only sane thoughts that remained in my head and shoved them in your paper shredder.
I wrote about how I’ve never been so much in pain.
But lately... Lately—as the flowers within me begin to bloom once more—I’ve been writing about the sun, the moon, the elements.
I’ve been writing about self-love, adoration, infatuation.
I’ve been writing about the things that make us human.
And, wow, have I never felt so alive.