After He Leaves, What’s Left?

When it happened, my friends, even his parents, they asked me, how? How could he have loved you so? They saw it, the mutual respect, the admiration, the happiness. How could he have done so much, said all those things? They heard it, said with such resolute. When? When did it all dissipate? When did he know? What was the reasoning behind it? Why, when it all seemed so real?

I had no answers. All I could say was, “while it may have been then, it is no longer.” When he made his decision, I was proud of him, of us. He was courageous enough to just let me go, sharing with me one’s most precious commodity – honesty. He never said the words, but his eyes spoke of his vacancy, an emptiness, as I’d never seen. I wondered how long he’d been gone. Maybe if I’d just noticed earlier, I could have searched for him, brought him back home. But, it was too late, and I knew it instantly. He was gone.

So what of those four years? What’s left after he leaves? I held on to anything. Fiercely. I had lived it, received it, felt it. The love. I held on to it, even after having let him go. As it was bound to happen, it did so, gradually, things started to go missing. Memories next to the kitchen, when maybe they had happened by the laundry. Then, big chunks of time, plans, ideas, promises, one by one, they departed. But, still remained, accompanied only by these fleeting, displaced moments in time.

Tonight is difficult yet feels so right. I’ve realised something. Even though, a day after he shared his honesty with me, I packed up and moved interstate, I had yet to completely vacate “us”. Now, tonight, at 2am, I am ready. The us, we, ours, they, they have now all left, a week shy of a year after he did. Now, it’s time for me to do the same.

I’m leaving, I make sure to close the door firmly behind me. I take with me, all that remains, me, just my Self, accepting, healed, evolved. It is my Self, that I can always trust, it is to my Self, that I will remain forever committed.

Now, I am moving forward, continuing on the path that’s always been mine.

Thank you H, for what was, and what is no longer – from the deepest of deep.


photograph: The Redwoods, Victoria, Australia. 




56 thoughts on “After He Leaves, What’s Left?

    1. Thank you, it’s humbling to know my words create hope. What a wonderful feeling, thank you. I wish you all the best. I hope that hope itself is always your beacon. Power and light to you x

      Liked by 4 people

  1. Very powerfully written! “Memories by the kitchen when maybe they happened by the laundry.” Such a spot on description of the way time softens out all the sharp edges. Your words made my chest tighten up a bit out of fear? Anxiety? I’m not even sure why. My favorite part, however, is your gratitude for his honesty and your courage in continuing on your path. Congratulations on your journey.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I resonate with this so much, the feelings you invoke a ways that currently occupy my thoughts, similar timescales and similar reasonings, it was a pleasure to read.


    1. All the power to you, at closing that door. I couldn’t have put it better myself, “it’s tough but necessary”. Good luck and from my experience, your Self will thank you for moving forward.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome. I’ve learnt that the only constant in this life is me. I can’t search for something outwardly if it’s missing within me. We are stronger than we know. You should be incredibly proud of yourself for prioritising you above all else x

        Liked by 1 person

  3. This is so beautiful. That feeling of loving what happened but knowing time is dissolving it away is scary. I love how your practicing the art of accepting. Of releasing. You are so strong.


    1. Thank you, your words are so generous. It’s terrifying, absolutely. Holding on felt so safe. I don’t always feel strong, but I know I must take these steps, I just must. Thank you again x


  4. Life is something you never expect what is coming relationships are so hard but girl you amaze me . I love your strength your ability to let go as well and move forward I wish you the best and keep respecting yourself it’s a wonderful thing.


    1. Thank you for the support. It’s been a long road of resisting, heartbreak, learning and accepting. I too never expected such events to transpire. I guess you never do when you’re younger. As I’ve grown, life, its beauty and its pain, has taught me so much. Thank you again, I appreciate it x

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Thank you for writing this. I’m coming through a similar time in my life, letting go of the deepest love I’ve ever experienced–because it was time; we were not in the same place in our journeys and it became apparent. We had an honest ending. We love each other, but we are not together. “We” are no longer “we” and facing the terror of the loss of that love has helped me heal and grow. (Very painful, growth. And incandescent is the light that comes after the darkness.) I’m not quite where you are; I’m in the last door-shutting stages and this helps me see it is the most loving thing I can do for myself, and him. Your words inspire.

    Halfway in or hanging on to threads is all about fear, not love.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Elaine, first and foremost, thank you for sharing your story. It takes great courage to recognise when it is no longer, and to let go. You are a wonderful, loving soul, and those who have had the privilege to be in your presence past, present or future, are no doubt better off as a result. I really do believe it. That letting go, is the final act of love, respect and commitment. To let it all go and to go forth with your self, learned, evolved. You are both brave, and so kind in telling your story here. You remind me and others, that we are not alone in these experiences. I wish you all the love, power and light. Best of luck Elaine. You’re in an amazing place already xox


  6. Thank you! I have to read your post thrice. It brought back memories were best kept behind that closed door, but I was reminded me that some doors are meant to be closed. I look forward, as a WordPress newbie to your old blogs and future posts.

    Liked by 1 person

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