It’s something that unfolds—or doesn’t—depending on what comes after.
What I do know is this:
I no longer confuse forgiveness with access.
Boundaries aren’t punishment.
They’re protection.
Loving someone doesn’t require surrendering your life to their expectations.
I learned that the door that closed behind me on the day of the funeral wasn’t the end of my story.
It was the beginning of the one I chose for myself.
And when I finally stood on the right side of it, I understood something Margaret had known all along.
Sometimes the greatest act of love is refusing to disappear.
