For an incredibly long five years, I loved him. I loved him hard and almost blindly. And not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that allowed me to do so blissfully. Blissfully ignorant to the months worth of signs that he plastered around our home disguised as weekends away with the boys. When he finally decided to leave, he did more than just break me. I shattered. But I did more than just survive. I picked up every last shard of myself off of the ground and put them back together into some sort of mosaic that reflected just enough light to attract you -- drawing you in to the same exact warmth that had forced him to run away in the first place. Instead, you tightly embraced me until you were engulfed in my flames. So suddenly and so easily we became fire. What we had was fire. One that warmed the deepest parts of our souls, shining brightly on the darkest parts of ourselves so that for once we could feel as if we were finally seen, proving to us that the cold that s...
Like wildflowers, you must allow yourself to grow in all the places that people never thought you would.