The Writing Of Rebecca Bones

I used to be afraid of losing everything.
Now I know what that actually feels like.
I’ve said goodbye to a child I never got to hold.
I’ve signed papers that ended a life I thought would last forever.
I’ve walked away from a home that once held all my plans and promises.
There’s a strange kind of silence that comes after that—
when the worst has already happened
and you’re still here, breathing in a life you didn’t choose.
So I stayed alone.
Not because I couldn’t love—
but because I needed to learn how to live
inside the quiet that was left behind after loving the wrong person.
For two years, I rebuilt myself in pieces.
Slow mornings. Long nights.
Learning who I was without everything I had lost.
And then… I chose to love again.
Not recklessly. Not blindly.
But bravely.
I let someone in
when it would’ve been easier to stay guarded.
I softened in places that had every reason to stay closed.
But sometimes the hardest truth isn’t loss—
it’s being almost chosen.
It’s giving your heart
and realizing it isn’t being held the same way in return.
And somehow, that kind of heartbreak
echoes just as loudly as everything that came before it.
Still—
I am not the person I was.
I don’t have the life I imagined.
But I am still here.
Still choosing to feel.
Still choosing to hope.
Still believing that one day,
I won’t have to question if I’m fully chosen.
Until then, I’ll keep going—
not because it’s easy,
but because I know now that I can.
One day at a time.