Secondly

Okay, where should I start from...

I’m not usually great with words — especially the kind that come from the heart. When I try to say them out loud, they get tangled up somewhere between pride and regret. So maybe writing this will help me say things the way I actually feel them.(same opening i used in firstly )

It’s been almost two months now the 9th (hope i show you this before it becomes 3 month) will mark it. And it’s strange, how time moves differently after something ends.

(It’s strange.......two months can feel like forever and a blink at once. I still catch myself reaching for my phone, half expecting your name to light up the screen, like muscle memory that doesn’t know the story’s changed. it happens but not like before.)

The begging of us i hesitated to begin not because my feeling weren't real but because i wasn't whole enough to start anything but it seems like what you wanted and i never for once regretted that decision

Some days feel like forever, and others feel like I blinked and you’re already gone again. 190 days we had together and even now,

they replay in flashes:

your laugh,

the way you talk, walk, even when i hit you back,

the quiet moments that never needed words.

Those memories still live somewhere between my ribs,

and no matter how hard I try to push them aside,

they remind me what I lost

and why.

I’ve done a lot of thinking, probably too much. in different circumstances

And the truth I keep coming back to is simple

I was selfish.

Not just in the way I ended things,

but in the way I handled u and i (us).

I let my emotions run wild once again (I'm like a child),

I reacted when I should’ve listened,

and I made choices that came more from Selfishness than care or love.

I was so focused on being “right,”

that I forgot how to be kind.

You didn’t deserve the version of me that let frustration speak louder than love.

You were patient, you tried

and I took that for granted.

I thought walking away would somehow prove a point or make me feel normal,

but all it proved was how little I understood about what it means to truly love someone.

It’s a hard thing to admit (very hard)

that I hurt the one close person who only ever wanted the best for me.

I’ve replayed our last conversations in my head,

the way things ended so fast, so sharp.

If I could go back,

I wouldn’t erase the fight (i knew i was going to regret it but still)

I’d just slow down enough to see what it was really about.

Because it wasn’t that we were broken

it was that I let one moment of overreaction

undo months of something real.

Since then, I’ve learned how quiet regret can be.

It doesn’t scream, it just sits beside you

when the day is too long or the night feels too empty.

And in those moments, I see things clearly

how much of what went wrong came from me not knowing how to handle what I felt.

I’m not writing this to beg, or to fix everything with a few nice words.

I just needed to be honest.

Because silence started to feel like lying,

and I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t care.

I do.

And I always will, in one way or another.

If there’s even a small space where we could start over

not pretending nothing happened,

but knowing what did and choosing to grow past it

I’d want that.

Not to repeat the past,

but to build something new out of the lessons it left behind.

And if that’s not something you want,

I’ll understand.

Truly.

Because love isn’t about forcing your way back in

it’s about hoping the other person finds peace,

even if it’s not with you.

But I just needed you to know

I see where I went wrong,

I see the parts of me that got in the way,

and I’m doing my best to change them.

Not just for us,

but for me

because I don’t want to be the person who lets good things die out of pride.

You mattered to me.

You still do.

And no matter what happens next,

I’ll always be grateful

for the 190 days that taught me what real love feels like

and what losing it taught me about myself.

(took me more than a month to write this )

i cant seem to clear the folder on my phone, the last sticky notes and the saved on ig things to do, the memories and all

— me