Gathering the Pieces of Me

I don’t know who I am anymore.

Grief didn’t just take you. It took pieces of me too.

The parts of myself that only existed because you were here. The parts that were shaped by you. The parts that don’t make sense without you.

And now I’m trying to figure out what’s left.

Who am I without you?

I don’t know.

I used to be someone. A person with an identity. A role. A place in your life.

And now that’s gone. And I don’t know what that makes me.

I’m gathering the pieces. Trying to figure out which parts of me are still here. Which parts died with you. Which parts I need to rebuild from scratch.

And it’s exhausting.

Because I don’t recognize myself anymore.

The things I used to care about don’t matter. The goals I used to have feel pointless. The version of me I was working toward doesn’t exist anymore.

Grief rewrote everything.

And I’m left here trying to piece together a new version of myself from the wreckage.

Some days I find a piece that still fits. A part of me that survived. A sliver of who I used to be that I can hold onto.

Other days, I realize how much is gone. How many pieces of myself were tied to you. How much of my identity was built around having you in my life.

And I don’t know how to be me without you.

I’m not the same person I was before you died. But I’m not sure who I’m becoming either.

I’m somewhere in between. Lost. Searching. Trying to figure out who I am in this new reality.

Gathering the pieces of me. The ones that are left. The ones I can salvage. The ones I have to create from nothing.

It’s slow. It’s painful. It’s lonely.

Because the person who knew me best is gone.

And I have to do this without you.

I have to figure out who I am now. In a world that doesn’t include you. In a life I never wanted to live.

I’m gathering the pieces.

Not to go back to who I was. I can’t. That version of me is gone.

But to build something new. Someone new. A version of me that can survive this. That can carry you with me while still moving forward.

I don’t know who she is yet. I don’t know what she looks like. I don’t know if I’ll even like her.

But I’m trying.

One piece at a time.

Gathering what’s left of me. And trying to make sense of it all.