Split

  

I love them each, in impossible ways. 

One is my future, the other my past. 

One shattered me without apology, opening wide what I was too afraid to see.  The other will thread me back together, carrying my grief like his own. 

One brought me to life, breathing fire into frozen places. The other will sustain it, exhaling cool water over the burns left behind. 

One is the autumn I fell in love, the other a winter’s shelter. One is eternal spring, the other the summer I’ll never forget

Who am I to have been loved by both so completely?

Who am I to have been chosen to live and fight and love beside them both? 

They are mine…

But I no longer belong to them both. 

Chelsey Whitlow 

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