Some of healing is grieving lives that never happened. The version of you who never got hurt. The version who was understood sooner. The version who stayed. The version who never had to become so strong. For a long time, I thought healing meant finding a way back to those lost paths. Now I wonder if healing is something else. Maybe healing is walking through the library of all those unlived lives, placing a hand on each book, and saying: “Thank you.” Then choosing to keep reading the story that is still being written. The one you’re living right now. The one that still has blank pages. 💜