Created by Rachel Maria Kisellus

I didn’t reach out to stir the past.

I didn’t even know there was a past left to stir.

It had been nearly a year, and I’d let her go ~ at least, I thought I had.

But something nudged me that day.

A soft curiosity. A whisper of, check in.

I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t looking for anything.

I just sent a message.

And then, there it was.

The photo.

My child’s face.

Public, polished, used.

No warning. No request. No trace of the friendship we once shared.

Just a quiet, calculated decision she never thought I’d see.

And suddenly, that lyric came back ~

You had me participating.

Because I had.

I had smiled for the camera. I had trusted the moment. I had believed we were building something good.

And now I saw it: