I didn't cry.

Last night, I was lying in bed, music playing softly in the background, drifting off to sleep...

When I heard it. I heard one of my favorite songs from years back. And my mind automatically went reeling back in time, to a summer a decade or so ago. It was Labor Day weekend. We were sitting beside one another on a picnic table, by a bonfire. There were quite a few others there. He had my guitar and was playing. We had been singing together. 

And then, as a surprise, he started playing. The opening riff immediately stirred overwhelming emotions of joy and love as he played. I was smitten. I knew he loved me...

Last night, I relived it in my mind.

But for the first time in the last 18 months, I wasn't sad. I wasn't longing. I wasn't shattered or stabbed in the heart.

I was content. I was at peace. My mind was whispering to me "I'm so thankful I had that experience, this memory."

Whether or not he really, truly ever loved me, while I like to believe he did, may never be known. But, that day, I believed it fully. I felt it to be completely true. Even if it wasn't, I felt it...

And I am thankful. 

I do long for and miss it. I do, so intensely it takes my breath away sometimes. But, at least, last night, I didn't cry.

I guess the healing is beginning.