Grief

And what happens when all of your favorite memories are with someone who broke your heart?

The memory didn’t change, but the people held inside it did.

The perspective we have on each other is no longer the joy my favorite memories hold.

But the happiness was real. The love was real.

Even if it isn’t there anymore.

I think of that memory fondly, with tenderness and care, like an old historian trying to preserve an ancient artifact.

But preservation is not resurrection.

Yet I know the happiness I once felt will be tangible again,

if only I let myself feel it.