I don’t expect you to read this. I don’t even know if you’d want to. But I need to say it somewhere, to put these words out into the world because they have been suffocating me for so long.
I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me. And I have no one to blame but myself.
You loved me in a way I didn’t know I needed. In a way that was patient, kind, and so forgiving. I was reckless with your heart, thinking it would always be there. I was selfish, thinking love could survive on its own without effort, without care.
Do you remember that night? The one where you stood at the door, waiting for me to say something anything that would make you stay? I saw the tears in your eyes, the way your hands trembled. You wanted me to fight for you, to show you that I still cared. But I stood there, silent, too proud or too stupid to stop you from walking away.
I thought I had time. I thought I could fix things later. But life is cruel in the way it doesn’t always give second chances.
Now, all I have left are memories. Your laugh in the morning light, the way you’d squeeze my hand when you were nervous, the way your eyes would soften when you looked at me. I thought those things would be mine forever.
But forever ended too soon.
And now, I sit here, replaying every moment, every word I didn’t say, every mistake I made. The silence of your absence is louder than anything I’ve ever known.
I am so sorry. For the nights you cried yourself to sleep because of me. For the times I made you feel unloved when you deserved the world. For not realizing that losing you would feel like losing a part of my soul.
If I could go back, I’d tell you what I should have said that night, “Don’t go. I love you. I’ll do better. Please stay”.
But you’re gone. And all I can do now is whisper these words into the emptiness and hope, somehow, they reach you.