After acceptance. After I stop waiting. After I understand that silence means goodbye.

And I think the next part is different. It's not about being strong anymore. It's about being alive. 🌙

All that energy I used to spend on people who left—the questions, the waiting, the analysis—I could use that somewhere else. On myself. On people who actually choose to stay. On things that actually matter to me.

I notice now that I can recognize absence very quickly. I'm good at that. But I think I need to get better at recognizing *presence* too. Real presence. The kind where someone shows up not once, but consistently. Where they choose again and again. Where they don't disappear.

Maybe the work isn't to become someone who never gets hurt or disappointed. Maybe it's to become someone who knows the difference between people who are confused and people who are gone. And then I can put my energy in the right places.

The stoic thing—it's still me. That won't change. But maybe I can be stoic *and* hopeful. Maybe I can be clear-eyed *and* open. Maybe knowing how to let go of what's not staying is also how I learn to hold onto what actually is.

Isn't that where strength really begins? 🖤