August.

August came quietly, but somehow it carried the weight of a thousand storms.
I watched someone I love drift farther away, while I stood still, wondering why I wasn’t enough to make him stay.
Some days I reached for him, hoping for a reply, only to be met with silence that somehow hurt louder than words.
I kept questioning our life, our memories, our pets, our home, and whether any of it still meant something to him.
There were moments when a simple message, a picture, or even a small gesture from him could make my heart feel alive again.
But those little sparks never lasted long, and I found myself falling back into the same ache of wondering where I belonged.
I cried, I dissociated, I felt lost inside myself, and there were nights when simply making it through the night felt like an accomplishment.
Still, I kept waking up, caring for the things that depend on me, and finding comfort in the little souls beside me who never asked me to be anything but here.
August taught me that I can be completely brokenhearted and still have a part of me stubbornly fighting to survive.
And as this month comes to an end, I may not know what happens next, but I know I made it through another month carrying a heart that was hurting and still somehow beating.