There was a void when you left.
A melancholic emptiness. 
No appetite to move. No desire to be seen.
Much less, let the sunlight nourish the void. 
Tempted to lose my faith.
And vulnerable to becoming jaded, like you.

I pondered at the depth of this emptiness.
I asked myself why this numbness occurs
and what I discovered was simple.

You knocked and knocked,
and left charming messages in my mailbox
until I opened my door.
Reluctantly, I welcomed you in.
My heart is your heart.

You made yourself comfortable in my optimistic home.
I hosted and gave. You took, and you took.
But you didn’t nest.
No, you didn’t give back.
Because there was nothing for you to give.
At least nothing that matched my depth.
And I gave more to compensate for your own desolation.
So when you left, you left with quite a bit of my optimism.

Even so, I self-nourished and began to fill the void. 
Little by little I stepped out far enough for the sun to grace me with its warmth. 
And the people in my life that touched me with kindness, 
they filled me up even more.
And every adventure that I found the energy to undertake,
sent a surge that intensified the strength of my pulse.
And just like that my optimism sprung back.
Open to the possibilities.
Curious toward this new path.
And hopeful about everything else.