By Krystina | #Wheelstrong

You said it like it was fact.
Like a eulogy wrapped in blame.

“The girl I loved died the night of the accident.”
And you know what?
You were right.

She did.

She died in that twisted metal and midnight silence.
She died when the machines started breathing for her.
She died every time someone looked at her chair before her face.
She died when her body became a battlefield
and no one stayed long enough to help her fight.

But here’s what you didn’t say…..

A woman was born in her place.

One who doesn’t beg to be loved.
One who knows pain like scripture,
and strength like muscle memory.
One who may be broken….
but she is unshakable.

So yes, she died.
But I survived.
And what rose from that wreckage is no longer asking to be loved….
she’s choosing who’s worthy of her love now.