It Wasn’t Time That Healed My Heart

They told me time would help.

That I’d forget them.

That one day,

I’d wake up and it wouldn’t ache anymore.

But here’s the truth —

it wasn’t time that healed me.

Time just dulled the edge,

while I still bled inside quietly.

**

I didn’t need another calendar month.

I needed someone

who didn’t tell me to “move on.”

Someone who didn’t say,

“Maybe they weren’t the one.”

I needed someone to say,

“Yeah, it was love.

And losing it hurt like hell.”

**

I didn’t need advice.

I needed understanding.

Not someone to fix me,

but someone who let me fall apart

without making me feel guilty for it.

**

You can only pretend to be okay for so long.

You can only cry into a pillow so many nights

before you forget

what being held feels like.

**

They think I’m strong.

That I “handled it well.”

But strength looks a lot like

crying quietly into your coat sleeve

so your friends won’t worry.

**

So no —

It wasn’t time that healed my heart.

It was that one conversation

where someone didn’t say “you’ll be fine,”

but said,

“I know it still hurts. And I’m not going anywhere.”