Do Not Let Anyone Tell You How to Heal

Do not let anyone tell you how to heal. Do not let them tell you that you are meant to cover up the wound, that you are meant to just forget. You are allowed to rebound with sadness. You are allowed to fall in love with the comfort it gives you, how it is always there, how it never seems to leave. You are allowed to listen to the songs that hurt; you are allowed to take long drives on winding roads and blast them until you crack. You are allowed to count ceiling tiles and paint chips and sheep until you can finally fall asleep without them balmy arms around you. You are allowed to commit to the comfort of missing them. Do not let anyone tell you that you are not allowed to unravel. Come undone, really inspect what is left inside of you, and pick them out of your skin, piece by piece. Slowly build yourself out of the rubble. Rise from the wreckage of their goodbye.

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