Why, Then?

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If I want peace so much,
why do I search for it
where I know it will never be?
If I want freedom,
why do I enslave myself
looking for answers to questions
that chain me more closely
to my deepest sorrow?
It is time to let go.
But what part of me is holding on?
Did I not say I was worthy of great love?
Did I not believe it?
Yes, and yes.
Why, then, do I cling to a story
that I once called “love”
but which has revealed itself to be
a dream projected onto the memory
of a mind plagued with yearning
for more?
I was never fully happy with him.
Always a part of me waited
for deeper connection.
Why, then, do I imagine
I have lost a precious jewel
and will be impoverished
by its absence?
It was never love
if it was so easy to toss aside.
Why, then, do I tell myself such lies
and why do I believe them?

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