In October : I over you

He is not here this October,

our story has reached its full close —

yet I grieve no longer.

My heart understands, deep and true,

and I know with absolute clarity:

I have truly grown.

Last October, our world still shone bright —

every hour, every breath, golden as sunlight.

Winds brushed past, soft as his words,

only sometimes, a chill would brush my skin,

a quiet whisper that something was shifting.

But this October, storms roared in —

black clouds draped the sky, rain poured without end.

I stood alone, soaked through,

darkness draped the air around me —

yet my heart did not darken.

It felt washed clean, every clinging doubt dissolved,

every drop clearing the view:

I see the world more clearly now,

I understand life more deeply,

I have grown —

even though the road ahead

I walk alone.

When the storm passed, the sky transformed:

blue stretched wide and bright,

small clouds drifting like scattered blooms.

Flowers lifted toward the sun once more,

and certain trees shot upward, strong and fast —

nourished by rain that reached their roots.

They are like me:

watered by hardship, rising new.

And though cold winds still may blow,

I stand unshaken, rooted, sure.

He is not here anymore.

I accept this truth with quiet grace,

no longer ruled by feeling —

even though it was our own emotions

that brought our story to its end.

From this October onward,

I wish him happiness,

a smile that stays through every day,

and someone who will love him fully —

every part, every shade, all that he is.

In that Orthodox church —

not my faith, not my place —

but his.

I stepped inside, admired its beauty,

carved and painted, light and grace —

then walked straight to the icon of Archangel Michael.

I lifted my heart: "Keep him safe."

That is all I can do now.

We do not stand together anymore,

do not tend or hold or guard each other anymore —

so I leave him in higher care.

May he be safe, may he be happy,

held in protection always.

So this October —

I have been washed whole.

I have grown.

I have learned to live fully in truth.

He is gone —

but I remain:

better, stronger, and truly grown.