Tonight, while I was browsing through my old clothes, I found his favorite jacket. That old, torn and brown one he always used to wear.
It was kept because it gives me the feeling of his presence whenever I see it.
For the past months, I already convinced myself and others (maybe) that I’m truthfully happy with my “freedom”.
Until tonight, the moment my hands are again touching his beloved jacket… “Am I really free?”
At this moment of writing/typing, I realized how imprisoned I am from the pain within me. It didn’t took time. I still long for his life, his movements, unique habits, his smile and stares.
“Let go. Just let go.”
I repeatedly told myself right now. “It should be easy for you.” Myself thought.
I think I’m hurting my heart.
I’m still this person who’s in pain and behind the bars of being left by the one she truly loves.
I don’t want to be anymore.
So I have to let this jacket go.
How far should I go to find me feeling okay with this?
How many times should I let go just to be free?
Now I see: Freedom is not really the state of not being imprisoned by someone’s presence but rather the state of not being lost because of someone’s absence.