In the stillness of the cemetery, where shadows danced among the gravestones, I stood at the edge of a world that felt both distant and familiar. The air was thick with memories, echoes of laughter and whispers of love long gone. "Let the dead bury their dead," I murmured to myself, a mantra that resonated deep within my soul.


It was a reminder that some burdens were not meant to be carried into the light of a new day. The weight of past regrets and lost dreams clung to me like a heavy fog, but I knew it was time to release them. The ghosts of yesterday had their place among the stones, but I was alive, pulsing with potential and possibility.


As I turned away from the graves, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. Each step forward was a declaration: I would not be defined by what was lost. Instead, I would honor those memories by living fully in the present, embracing the beauty of each moment.


Letting go was an act of love—not just for myself, but for those who had touched my life and moved on. They would remain in my heart, cherished yet free, as I stepped into the sunlight that beckoned me forward. In this new chapter, I would carve my own path, allowing the past to rest peacefully while I danced into the future.


photo by: chardee_luzia @ pinterest
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