01/29/2026
My hands are open in this image,
not asking, just offering.
What I hold isn’t attention,
it’s remembrance.
Speaking your name isn’t performance,
it’s preservation.
A way of saying you mattered,
and still do.
I don’t share you for comfort,
or for replies.
I share because silence feels like erasure,
and I refuse that.
Each memory is a small act of care,
a quiet resistance to forgetting.
I release them gently,
like something living.
Some people misunderstand this need,
but that’s alright.
They didn’t love you the way I did,
or lose you the way I did.
So I keep posting,
not for sympathy,
but to keep you present in the world,
exactly where you belong.
—The Love I Lost
