The Last Letter I Could Never Send.

still remember the day you left.

It was an ordinary morning, but everything changed by evening. You walked out of my life, taking with you not just yourself, but a part of me I never got back.

I’ve written this letter a hundred times in my mind, but never found the courage to send it. Maybe because deep down, I know you’ll never read it. Or maybe, because I’m afraid you actually will.

Dear You,

I hope you’re happy. Truly. That’s all I ever wanted — your happiness, even if it didn’t include me.

Do you remember how we met? How shy you were? You dropped your coffee on my shoes and kept apologizing, your cheeks flushed pink. That was the first time I saw your smile, and I swear the whole world felt brighter.

Those first few months with you were magical. We stayed up all night talking about dreams, fears, and silly little plans we thought we’d achieve together. You told me about your love for rainy nights, and I told you about my fear of being forgotten. You promised you’d never let me feel that way.

But promises are fragile, aren’t they?

I don’t know when things began to change.

Maybe it was the silence between us that started to stretch longer than our conversations.

Maybe it was the way you stopped holding my hand when we crossed the street.

Or maybe it was just me, clinging too tightly while you slowly slipped away.

The day you said goodbye, you couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

You just said you “needed to find yourself.”

And I wondered — how do you find yourself by losing someone else?

I tried to hate you. God knows I tried.

But every time I looked at the stars, I thought of you and the way you’d trace constellations in the sky for me. Every time it rained, I thought of your laugh as we ran through puddles like children.

You were everywhere.

And yet, nowhere.

I still keep your sweater. The one you forgot on my couch. It doesn’t even smell like you anymore, but I can’t bring myself to throw it away.

I wonder sometimes… do you ever think of me? Do you ever wonder if I’m okay?

Because I’m not. Not really.

I smile, I laugh, I go to work, I meet friends — but at night, when it’s quiet and the world is asleep, I still feel the weight of you in my chest.

Some nights I dream you come back. That you say it was all a mistake, that you missed me too.

But every morning, I wake up to the same empty bed.

They say time heals everything. But they never tell you how long it takes.

It’s been two years now.

I no longer cry myself to sleep.

I no longer check my phone hoping for your name to pop up.

And yet… a part of me still waits.

Maybe it always will.

So here it is — the letter I’ll never send.

Because you’ve moved on, and maybe I should too.

Because even though my heart still aches for you, my pride won’t let me beg you to come back.

I just hope wherever you are, you smile when you think of me — even if it’s just for a second.

Because you were my everything.

And maybe… I was just a chapter in your story.

But you?

You’ll always be the whole book in mine.

Goodbye.

Always

Me.