since you're gone

i've learned more about myself than i knew there was to learn

Since you’re gone, I’ve learned to get a grip on myself. I am in charge now. My vision is clearer and I know what I want and what I do not want, and I make those things known to others instead of holding them down for fear of offending. I speak my mind, I tell myself things like “you got this” instead of cowering at opportunities. I have grown tall, I loom large. My shadow follows me around instead of leading me.

Since you’re gone I have realized that I can do anything I relied on you for. I fixed the router, I bought a stepladder so I can reach the high shelves, I hooked up new speakers. I fixed that slat in the bed frame that kept slipping out. I set up the backyard this spring and planted flowers and kept them alive.

I don’t wake up in a cold sweat anymore wondering if you’re unhappy. I don’t walk on eggshells; I walk assuredly, with the air of someone who knows where they’re going, and why. My gait is lighter, I don’t drag my feet anymore. I know how much that annoyed you and it makes me feel pettily good to know I stopped doing it after you left.

Since you’re gone I have made decisions without contemplating them for hours or days or even weeks. I am sure of myself, I am without fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. I make no apologies for who I am or what I do. I have come to be comfortable with who I am, but never who I was. I no longer know that person. I am free.

I go to bed with the ease of an exhausted child. I rarely dream of you anymore and when I do you are a ghostly presence, as if I can’t or don’t want to remember your face. I no longer worry about this, I no longer worry about forgetting you or us. I eat my meals mostly alone and I take absolute pleasure in the silence, in the solitude.

Since you’re gone I have learned to live with myself in so many ways. I have forgiven myself for mistakes but allowed myself room to make more. I have let myself be a little lazy when I want to, but have worked hard to maintain my sanity. I no longer associate every single thing with you, I have let go of so many attachments. I can look at my little trinkets from vacations with took together without crying anymore. There’s nothing to cry about, because I am learning that this is the way it was meant to be.

It’s not that what you put me through made me stronger or more resilient; I was in shambles for a bit after you left. No, I have realized that I was always strong, always resilient, but I let myself hide in your shadow where those traits went unseen. I would say I reinvented myself, but I think this version of me was always there somewhere. I have awaken after a long sleep, well rested, ready to take on what’s next.

Since you’re gone I’ve made new and fabulous meals, I cut my hair even shorter, I wear heels on occasion but I feel taller even without them. I navigated a health crisis without you nearby to soothe me, to take care of me. I shoveled snow and I take out the garbage and I change the lightbulbs and never once think of how I’m going to do those things without you. I got rid of the decor you picked out and redecorated the house so it has only my touch, so no ghosts of you linger.

I have become powerful, in my own eyes. I walked through a fire and came out of it alive and well. I have kept myself from texting you to tell you all this. I really want you to know, though. I want you to understand that I’m okay, that you didn’t break me after all. I used to think “what will I do without you” in a sorrowful way. Now I say those words with reckless abandon, with desire, with an eagerness. What will I do without you? I will thrive.

Since you’re gone, I found myself. I was right here the whole time. By letting you go, by you letting me go, I have come around again.