Love Beyond Blood: Salt in the Wound 💔

Because some are just incapable of loving beyond blood.
For years, I’ve wondered how it could be so hard to simply be —
To be present. To stay.
Especially when you’ve done so much, too much, for someone who always ran from the fire but played with the matchstick.

Push. Pull. Disappear. Reappear.
Inhumane in ways that didn’t leave bruises, but broke bones.
And still, I went — like a grain of salt.
Dissolving instantly.
Smudged, swept, crushed.

My life in a pinch.
But not with a pinch of salt.

The thought returned today.
We were talking about adoption.
A feeling I’ve carried since childhood, tucked beneath my ribs.

“How can you love someone who’s not your blood?” he said.
Firmly. As if it were law.
“You can’t. I never will.”

He had no ground to stand on.
That sand was never his.
Not his salt.

And true to his word, he lived it.
My ex-fiancé.
A man incapable of loving beyond DNA —
Which included me.

To the girl who once had the smallest of plans,
Built on thorny hope and watered by absence —
What would I be, if not all this?

Que sera, what would I be?