It's strange when the people we used to love, become just people we know, and how people we knew, become faint memories of a time when the future felt ever so distant. Sometimes there is an ache in their absence. A gnawing void of where their hands used to be, which they used to unravel me, hollow me out, swallow me whole and watch me come apart at my seams. Then they took every piece of me, and rebuilt me, shaped me anew and even something as subtle as their breathing altered me forever. If someone told me back then that one day all of them would be gone, I would have laughed at their carelessness, yet now it seems, I am the one who didn't know anything at all. If nothing else, I've learned, I've grown and now I can finally accept that even though some people might never be in my life again, I can learn to lean on others and allow others to lean on me. And when the time comes, when we shall meet again, it will be as if no time had passed at all, and our paths never took different turns. Who would have ever thought that always truly meant forever.
