I have come to understand that healing
does not mean erasing,
and that the shadows of the past
cannot be completely forgotten.
There are scars that tell stories,
whisper secrets on the skin,
remind you of days of glory,
nights of tears, honey.
Some wounds, still open,
are softened by the touch of time,
like rivers that dance relentlessly,
transforming pain into wind.
I have come to understand that healing
is not forgetting, but remembering
that love, in its pure essence,
can blossom in the beauty of a pair.
