by Dr. J. Bliss
He stood 6-foot-5.
Lips luscious.
Undeniably delicious.
Hands—massive enough to hold all of me.
A single grip commanding my surrender.
And God, I surrendered.
Was he heaven-sent? I used to wonder that.
But now I know— his exit opened a divine pathway.
Because when he left, something sacred cracked open in me.
I told myself I didn’t want love.
Didn’t need it.
Didn’t trust it.
But he came— and he moved something.
Woke something.
Made me feel like I was freefalling, plunging from a plane without a parachute.
And when he left— I thought I’d be fine.
But it’s been almost a year.
And it did bother me.
Because his actions… they confessed a love he never spoke.
He didn’t say it, but I saw it in the way he didn’t want to see me in need.
In how his voice awakened storms inside me.
In how his presence helped me relax and lean into the softness I once denied myself.
But still—he left.
And I was left with memories and silence.
Left sensing him lingering on my pages, lurking on my social media, ghosting through digital windows but never knocking.
And I prayed— God, please let him stop.
Because it hurt.
But that hurt?
It handed me back my clarity.
I said it aloud: I deserve someone emotionally available.
Not halfway.
Not in whispers.
But fully.
Out loud.
Present.
His absence taught me what I truly deserve.
His leaving made room for the love that can stay.
So now, I don’t bury myself just to remember him.
I gather the pieces— the divine, the ache, the truth— and I walk forward whole.
He was the spark, but I am the flame.
And no, knowing isn’t bliss.
But it is peace.
And it is mine.
