I have loved you too deeply to hate you now.
Hating you would be hating myself for
letting you creep so deep under my skin that
you have become part of me, part of my sinews,
my muscle, part of my strength;
a weakness now, but only because
to become strong we must tear the fibers of ourselves
and stretch them and flex them so that
when they heal they are more than they were before.
I accept the pain of you, the dull ache,
the sharp grab in my side when I turn and your memory assaults me.
You have made me stronger,
more myself than I was before you.
You have taught me to love, to rejoice,
to exalt in love and now
you teach me to let go, to forgive, to be at peace
with myself and your absence.
I cannot hate you.
I have loved you too deeply.