I was with my Ex for over eight years.
I am unable to recall a single Valentine’s Day spent with him.
I literally cannot summon up one miniscule facet of those eight holidays.
It seems they’ve been gridlocked from my memory.
And frankly, I don’t want or need to remember.
Some things are better left forgotten…
better left slouching in the cold, frozen night from whence those black moments were born.
Instead, I abscond gingerly to unsullied vistas where the earth is not deprived of its color.
Where my individuality is celebrated, no longer a conviction.
A place where I can breathe in green air
and the mornings offer their gracious possibilities.
In his unraveling of me, I discovered a gem of recognition.
Acknowledgement of the heavy truth
that I needed his darkness to discover my light.
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