What I Would've Said If I'd Had One More Day.

If I’d had one more day, I would have told you everything. But the truth is, I never got that chance. Time, that relentless thief, always slips away before we’re ready. I’m left holding onto memories, wondering what I might have said if just one more day had been mine.

It started like any other morning. The sun was bright, the sky clear, and I had no inkling that it would be the last sunrise I’d see you. I remember sitting across from you at the kitchen table, your favorite mug in hand, steam curling gently from the top. You smiled, as you always did, but there was a tiredness in your eyes I never wanted to notice. I was too wrapped up in my own world—work deadlines, social distractions, petty worries. I never thought that day would be our last moment together.

If I’d had one more day, I would have told you how much I appreciated every small thing you did for me—how you made the house a home, how you stayed up late to help with homework, how your laughter could fill the room and chase away any sadness. I would have thanked you for all the sacrifices you made silently, never asking for anything in return.

But I didn’t say it. I thought there would be time. I thought there would be countless tomorrows to make up for the words left unsaid.

If I’d had one more day, I would have told you I was sorry for the times I was impatient, the times I took you for granted, the times I let anger or frustration get in the way of what really mattered—our relationship. I would have asked for your forgiveness, hoping to heal the cracks that had formed between us over the years. I would have held your hand longer and listened more deeply, really hearing the things you tried to tell me without words.

But I didn’t. I let those moments slip away, thinking there would always be more chances.

If I’d had one more day, I would have shared my dreams with you—how I wished I could make you proud, how I wanted to live a life worthy of the love and guidance you gave me. I would have told you about my fears and hopes, my doubts and courage, and how your presence gave me strength even when I didn’t realize it.

I would have asked you about your stories—the ones you never shared, the ones you kept hidden behind quiet smiles. I would have wanted to know you better, to understand the parts of you that shaped the person I loved.

But I didn’t ask. I was too busy rushing ahead, too distracted by the noise of the world.

If I’d had one more day, I would have told you goodbye in a way that meant something. Not the hurried “see you later” or the careless “talk soon,” but a goodbye full of love, gratitude, and reverence for the time we had. I would have held you close and promised to carry your memory with me forever.

But I didn’t. And now I’m left with a silence so loud it echoes through every room of my heart.

That day ended, and so did your presence. The world kept turning, but my world stopped. The things I never said became a heavy burden, a painful lesson etched into my soul. I realized too late that words are fragile gifts, and the time to give them is always now.

If I’d had one more day, I would have said all those things. I would have made sure you knew how deeply you were loved, how much you mattered, how your life shaped mine in ways I’m still discovering.

But I didn’t have that day. What I have now are memories—flickers of your smile, the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch—and the ache of what might have been.

I want to tell you that I’m trying to live a life that honors you. That I’m learning to say the things that matter before it’s too late. That your love still guides me, even in the quiet moments when I feel lost.

If I ever get another chance—another day—I will not waste a single second. I will say all the things that wait in the depths of my heart, and I will hold those I love closer, speak louder, and love deeper.

Because time is fragile, and we never know when it will run out.

So, if you’re listening—wherever you are—know this: I love you. I always have. And if I had one more day, I would say it one thousand times over.