But what about the in-betweens?
People talk about love. People talk about grief. But not many talk about what comes after you’ve made it through not in a loud, triumphant way, but in a quiet, steady kind of becoming. There is a version of life that waits on the other side of loss. Not marked by constant sadness, not brimming with happiness either, but something quieter. A settledness. A knowing. You are no longer undone. The weight is lifting. You breathe easier now. You return to the cafe where you once sat heartbroken this time, just for the ice cream. You walk by the street where you used to cry in the car and hum a song instead. The memories still visit, but they don’t hold the same ache. They feel softer. Distant. Almost warm. You find a screenshot you missed out to delete and instead of tears, you smile You scroll past their name on your phone without the urge to reach out. You see their favorite movie playing, and you don’t change the channel. There are still quiet days. Still pauses when the past brushe...
