
I still daydream about everything you were.
You floated around effortlessly, in both strength and joy. You were always the best of both worlds; totally trusting the love you were given and being totally trustworthy with the love you were giving.
You were an inspiration to mothers, wives and woman in power and everyone knew how you did it with such class. See, you were a woman loved. You knew that you could show your fears behind closed doors, because you could be weak, in his strong arms. You were everything you were, because he loved you. You held your ground in the world because your foundation was deep.
The day that your foundation started to crack, I held on tightly to your hand. This was not our story, not yours or mine. There must be a mistake, we thought, let’s just give it time. The cracks grew deeper and new ones appeared each day, I felt your hand slipping…I knew that you couldn’t stay.
I hate that you need to be a memory, before you could truly be. I miss you so much, because you were truly the life of me. But, I know now that I need to bury you my dear. Because if I don’t, you will keep reminding me of the love I thought I had…
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
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The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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Photo credit: elen aivali on Unsplash
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer
