Some things fall out of step with you.
No effort pulls them back into line.
A friendship that thinned.
A plan that stopped fitting.
A version of your life you were once sure about.
The instinct is to grip harder. To keep it alive out of loyalty, or fear, or the sense that letting go means you failed.
But the path sheds things for a reason.
Not everything that leaves is a loss.
Some of it is weight you were never meant to carry this far.
Releasing it hurts. That's allowed.
A clean hurt now is kinder than the dull ache of dragging something years past its end.
You already know what's slipping.
Why make it wait?
