When He Left, I Met Myself Again

He did not just walk away
he carried pieces of me in his silence.

My pride, once standing tall,
folded into questions.
My arrogance, once loud,
drowned in self-doubt.

My strength,
oh, I thought it was mine,
until it trembled in his absence.

My voice grew quiet,
as if it had forgotten its own language.
My opinions blurred,
seeking validation that was no longer there.

He left…
and with him, the version of me
that existed only in relation to him.

And there I was
empty, undone, unfamiliar.

But emptiness has a strange grace.
It does not just take away,
it makes space.

So I began again
not as who I was,
but as who I had never allowed myself to be.

I rewrote my pride,
this time rooted, not borrowed.
I softened my arrogance
into quiet confidence.

I rebuilt my strength,
not to prove,
but to simply be.

I found my voice again,
not louder,
but truer.

And my opinions?
They no longer asked for permission to exist.

He took everything,
but in losing it all,
I finally found what was always mine.


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