"We often think we have more time, only to find it’s already gone."

I thought I had time.

I always believed there would be more time—more days, more moments, more breaths shared between us.

Yet, the cruel reality hit me with the force of a tidal wave: I only have one year left. Just one short year to hold onto the love we’ve built, to cherish every fleeting second. How do I even begin to tell him? He said he’s supposed to join his new job this year. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him, a chance to achieve the success he’s worked so hard for. But how can I possibly convey to him that this might be the last year we have together? That when he leaves, he might never see me again?

He's chasing his dreams, his career, his future. And I, I am left here, drowning in the agony of knowing that my future is slipping away, one heartbeat at a time. How do I make him understand the depth of my despair, the torment of facing each day knowing that our time is running out? He deserves to follow his path, to seize this opportunity. But the selfish part of me, the part that loves him so desperately, wants to beg him to stay.

I want to tell him to stay with me, to choose our love over his career. But how can I do that? How can I be the one to hold him back, to ask him to give up his dreams for my dying wish? The pain is unbearable, knowing that I might not be here when he returns. The thought of him coming back to an empty home, to a life without me, shatters my heart into a thousand pieces.

He is my world, my everything. The thought of living without him, of facing the end without his comforting presence, is a torment I can scarcely endure. I want to scream, to cry out that I can't live without him. But I can't. I have to be strong, for him, for us. I have to let him go, even if it kills me inside.

What do I do? How do I reconcile this conflict within me? I want to be selfless, to support his dreams, to be the loving partner who encourages him to soar. But the fear, the gut-wrenching fear of losing him forever, paralyzes me. I can't breathe, can't think, can't see a future without him.

I imagine the conversations we need to have, the words I need to find. How do I say goodbye when every fiber of my being wants to hold on tighter? How do I tell him that while he’s out there conquering the world, my world is slowly fading away? The nights are the hardest. Lying beside him, feeling the warmth of his body, knowing that soon he will be miles away, lost in a different world, while I am left to face the cold, unyielding reality of my own.

I watch him sleep, peaceful and unaware, and I want to freeze time, to hold onto these precious moments forever. But time is merciless, ticking away relentlessly, reminding me of the inevitability of our parting. I thought I had time. But time has betrayed me, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

He deserves to know the truth, but the truth is a double-edged sword. It will cut through our hearts, leaving wounds that might never heal. I want to shield him from the pain, to protect him from the sorrow that haunts my every waking moment. But how can I do that when the pain is our shared reality?

I love him too much to hold him back, but I love him too much to let him go. This paradox is tearing me apart, piece by piece, day by day. I am caught in this painful limbo, unable to move forward, unable to let go.

In the end, what do I do? How do I say the unsayable, express the inexpressible? How do I tell him that my time is running out, that I might not be here to welcome him back, to share in his triumphs? I thought I had time, but I was wrong. And now, all I have is this fleeting, precious year. A year that will end all too soon, leaving behind a love that could have been, dreams that will remain unfulfilled, and a heart forever broken.

''Advice"

"When a Friend's Words Became My Inspiration"