I was not okay.
I went through so much in the last month. I lost a friend, a boyfriend, a person who used to mean so much to me. I lost someone I used to trust, to the evils of jealousy. I lost him, and I was not okay.
Everyday, I would drop a little lower. One less happy thought would be thunk. One less spontaneous moment would happen. One less smile would cross my face. One less gesture of gratitude would fall from my lips.
Everyday, a piece of me would fall. A little part of who I was. I lost my voice, my independence, my writing. I lost my sense of right and wrong, my clear sense of direction.
Everyday, I lost a little more time for myself. I spent every waking moment with him, talking to him, comforting him, being there for him. I had to help him fix his problems, mediate during his fights. I had to stand up for him when he got scorned, rejected, hurt. I had to apply balm to his soul, a little piece of me every time.
Everyday, his absence would bother me. I was so used to voice, to his arms, to his presence; so used to his constant demand for attention. I was so used to being loved, comforted, dependent. I was so used to him.
Then I left him.
I was fraying at the seams, constantly on edge. I was lost without his forceful presence. I didn't know how to be on my own anymore. I didn't know how to be me.
I was sinking, lower and lower. I was drowning in a sea of feelings, emotions, my heart in a turmoil.
Till I started to fight.
I fought for me. I fought for the girl who I used to be. The girl who would never endanger her friends. The girl who everyone trusted with their secrets. The girl who people could turn to. The girl who was happy and spontaneous and impulsive and independent. The girl who had a strong sense of right and wrong. The girl who would stand up for what she believed in. The girl who wouldn't budge from her stance, if she truly believed in something. The girl who would help others when in need. The girl who was me.
I fought for me.
And now I'm okay.