💮 Journal Entry- Pieces of me 💮

Today the air feels heavier than it did yesterday. It sits on my chest like a secret I can’t remember how to keep. My mind keeps slipping through cracks—whole hours disappear into places I don’t recognize. I look for myself in mirrors and find only the outline of someone who used to laugh when tiny hands held hers. Every thought circles back to them—my girls, my pulse, the rhythm my heart still keeps even in their absence. It’s strange how love can echo in a house that’s gone silent. I try to stay anchored—count breaths, sip coffee, pretend the ache isn’t winning. But memory feels like water lately; it runs through my fingers, and I can’t hold on to anything long enough to stop the flood. There are moments I forget what day it is, but I never forget them. Their laughter still lives in the corners of my mind, like light that refuses to burn out. If they could see me—really see me—they’d know I’m still fighting, still searching for the pieces that went missing the day I had to let them go. Some days, I am made of hope. Others, I am made of ache. Today, I am both—and neither—and something lost in between. But I’m still here. Still breathing their names. Still loving them louder than the silence that tries to erase me.