It happened without warning.
A joke I wasn’t expecting, a moment of lightness I didn’t see coming. And suddenly, there it was — a smile. My smile. Not borrowed, not forced, not hidden behind grief. Real. Alive. For the first time since you left.

And then came the guilt.
How dare I smile when you are gone?
How dare I let joy find me, even for a second, when the weight of losing you is still inside me?
I wanted to take it back, to erase it, to prove to the world — and to myself — that my sadness was still loyal.

But grief is not loyalty.
Grief is love with nowhere to go.
And love… real love… would never demand that I bury myself with you.

That smile did not mean I forgot you.
It did not mean the pain was gone, or the memories faded.
It meant only this: that life, stubborn and relentless, still flows through me. That even in the shadow of loss, the light can find its way back.

I think about you when I laugh now.
Not with guilt, but with gratitude.
Because so many of the reasons I can still laugh, still love, still live — come from you. From what we shared, from what you taught me, from the way you changed me.

The first smile without you felt like betrayal.
But now I see it differently.
It was not leaving you behind.
It was carrying you with me — into joy, into healing, into tomorrow.

One day, there will be more smiles. More laughter. More life.
And each one will still carry you, quietly, in its corners.

Always and Forever

💬 Have you ever felt guilty for finding happiness after loss? Share in the comments — your words might free someone else from that same guilt.