BRENDA SERRANO

The death of you… it was a long one.
You took a piece of me that will only ever be yours, the good and the bad. It’s a farewell indeed, and with this, I say my goodbye.

I only ever looked at you in awe. Even in the moments of pain and ugliness, you were the sunshine through my storm. If I could trace you with my finger, I would close my eyes so tightly, and remember how your eyes told a novel, and how your smile was so soft. I would compose a painting of your calm, yet deep voice, with strokes of blue, grey, and green. Your voice, so soothing and comforting, that I almost wish to never hear it again.

I gasped for breath. My knees hit the floor as I collapsed. The cushion of my carpet served as a slightly softer landing for my face. This was not real. Soon enough, I would wake up from this nightmare. The tears came down like waterfalls, creating a lake on my floor. I had done this. I had done this to myself. I could’ve fixed this. I would’ve changed all the things you told me to change. I should’ve fought harder.

The price of admission was as much as I was willing to pay. And I chose the most grueling. To love so deeply had come with a heavy price tag—a slow death. The hollowness in my face became evident. The voices grew louder, more tempting, more appealing. I fought every urge to not let them win… they almost did.

Shouts of my name echoed in the background. I had broken. Slowly, I felt the cold water hit my back. And I began to come back to myself. I thank you, you, and you. As much as I wanted to slip under my ocean of thoughts, you kept throwing me life jackets. They were constant and never-ending. I knew I couldn’t go under—not yet.

I had finally woken from my nightmare. It was over. I became my own rays of sunshine through my own storm. There is no more room for “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.” It just was, and it just is. You took a piece of me that will only ever be yours, and I took a piece of you that will only ever be mine. And I hope you cherish it—the good and the bad—because I know I will.

Yes, the price of admission was grueling, but loving so deeply? It’s the price I’ll pay again and again. It’s the pulse of life—beautifully human. A fire that won’t dim, no matter how much it’s tested. I’ll love myself with the force of a storm, unapologetically. And if someone new steps in, they’ll feel that unrelenting love. I’ll go where I’m wanted and stay where I’m loved, offering my heart with purpose. Because my love, is the stroke of a million colors.