a letter to you six months ago.

this is something i wrote to a friend six months ago, as well as a reflection on how
i've healed and grown from a destructive season in my life.

i want you to know that i know how it feels.

i know that everyday it rips your guts out with nearly every breath.
it         t
              w
             i
                 s
              t
          s  your intestines thin when you re-remember that it happened

{everything that happened}.

i know that your days are wracked with tight emptiness, and everything feels sharp; everything bears some mark of their name, like a harpoon to your >lungs.

i get it.

sometimes the pain still ricochets through my chest, shocking my nerves, rattling my skull. it comes less frequently now, the pain, but it's still there, halfway buried, halfway excavated.

the key here is time + discipline. you musn't soley rely on time, because if you make no effort on your part, time is only going to amplify the ache. you must be disciplined, and shift your thoughts {the thousands of memories} to ones more edifying, constantly refreshing your perspective.
you are  s e p a r a t e  now, no longer bound by the present. it is a disservice to let your past tie you to a stake in the ground.
you musn't seek a replacement either, because it's only going to unravel you further, creating even more abrasions when it inevitably comes to an end.