Two Days Before One Year

I remember the version of me from this week last year—

tired, behind, trying to catch up to a life
that felt like it was moving faster than I could follow.

I didn’t know what was coming.
I didn’t know how much would change.

But I showed up anyway.
In the middle of stress, recovery, and responsibility—
I was still loving, still reaching, still trying.

And now… here I am.

A year later.
Still missing you.
Still feeling the weight of your absence in quiet moments.

But also—
creating again.
Breathing deeper.
Finding pieces of myself that grief didn’t take…
it refined.

I am not who I was.
And I’m not who I will become.

But I am here.
And that means something.