a door left ajar.

life is full of letting go.
sometimes chosen.
other times unwanted,
but required.
oftentimes,
it's a little bit of both,
all at once.
but almost always,
it hurts.

much like sand slipping through a hand,
no matter how tightly the fist closes,
tightens,
and tightens further,
still,
the sand finds it's way through the cracks
and falls beyond reach.
an attempt to prevent the inevitable.
a beautifully human instinct,
this refusal to accept what already is.

we know we need to release.
we know clinging won't return what is gone,
won't undo what has already changed,
and only stretches the ache
into something longer lived.
but knowing is not surrender
and understanding does not make it any easier.

the mind speaks in reason.
the heart speaks in love.
the gap between the head and the heart.
forever connected,
yet speaking different languages.

with this recognition,
i don't say goodbye.
i choose instead to say,
until i see you again.
in this world,
or whatever waits beyond it for us.
because forever is a weight
i'm not ready to lift.
it feels much too heavy,
much too final.
like a door closing
my heart isn't ready to hear shut.

so for now,
i leave it ajar.
an inch,
or two,
or three.
however much is enough to let some light in,
to soften the dark,
to ease the pain,
to quell the sadness,
and give me just enough space
to keep going,
moving forward,
one step at a time.