Dear You,
There was a time I truly believed we would last. The way you looked at me, the way our hands fit together, the way we talked about the future. It all felt so certain. I remember thinking, this must be what forever feels like.
But forever, it turns out, is shorter than I thought.
You didn’t leave in one big moment. It was slow. It was small silences that grew louder over time, laughter that began to fade, touches that no longer lingered. I kept trying to save what was slipping away, hoping that love would be enough. But love alone couldn’t carry us through everything we refused to face.
I still think about how gentle the beginning was. How easy it felt to love you before we both became people the other didn’t recognize. I don’t regret loving you. I only regret holding on long after love had turned into memory.
Losing you felt like losing a part of myself, the part that still believed in uncomplicated love. For a while, I was angry. Not just at you, but at the way life can give you something beautiful only to take it back when you are still holding on.
Now, I see it differently. You were not forever, but you were a chapter that mattered. You taught me that love can be real and temporary at the same time. That something can shape you even as it breaks you.
If I could tell you anything, it would be thank you. Not for staying, but for showing me what it means to love fully, even when it doesn’t last.
With quiet acceptance,
The one who finally let go.