Far back as I can recall, not a day exists when I haven’t loved Helena Williams. In my younger years, my love for her was more familial or akin to friendship. But as the years passed, something changed between us. The unrequited love I had for my sister’s best friend was reciprocated. Like the seasons, our love fluctuated. Like the moon, some nights were dark and cold while others were bright and warm.
I loved her.
I love her.
Nine years ago, I broke in two. She said goodbye, and I tried to let her go. She moved on and I did unthinkable things.
With her gone, I fell apart. I let the darkness take over. Let myself drown. The dark was familiar. Comforting. Guaranteed. Constant.
But now, I am ready to breathe again.