I never understood before. Not until now, I didn’t. She always used the music. It was the music that connected her. I didn’t understand until now. I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel grief. I may feel these things in time, but now I feel a much deeper sense of what the last eight years meant, and how it all got shaken the way it did.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be strong enough to be a partner for her. I have so much work to do on myself. But I hope she’s alright. I hope that she’s finding peace somehow, in some way that’s healthy. I hope that she’s okay. She’ll always have that piece of me that I gave her. And I guess I’ll always have the piece of her that she gave me. We can’t take those things from each other, not with words or actions, but we’re forced to keep them somewhere in our lives.
But she always told the story of her heart with music, and it wasn’t until she left me that I understood. Even now I can’t listen to what I love without remembering her love, without remembering loving her. I can smile, though, remembering all the good times. I can smile through the hard memories, as there were many. But most importantly, even if my music reminds me of her forever, I can move forward into the future knowing that everything will be okay. No matter what happens, I will be okay.