No You, No Love

You ever hear a phrase that just... hits you? Not ‘cause it’s fancy or deep or whatever — just because it’s true. For me, that phrase is “No you, no love.” I don’t even know where I first heard it. Maybe I made it up in my head after everything. But it stuck. Like glue. And it’s been sitting with me for a while now.

I used to think love was like this huge, magical explosion. Like, you'd meet someone, the stars would align, music would start playing outta nowhere, and boom — everything changes. Maybe it is like that at first. With her, it kinda was.

We met in the dumbest way. A library seat — yeah, I know, sounds like a movie. But it was packed, and we both reached for the same chair. She had this book in her hand, the same one I’d just finished reading like, a week ago. I told her it destroyed me. She smiled, looked at the cover, and goes, “Well, great. Guess I’m about to cry too.” I laughed. And just like that, something clicked. Nothing crazy. Nothing dramatic. Just... real.

Fast forward a bit, and it wasn’t some big, flashy thing anymore. Love became all the tiny things — you know? Her late-night calls, the way she’d squeeze my hand when we crossed busy roads, or how she’d roll her eyes at my dumb jokes but never actually tell me to stop. I didn’t even notice it happening. But yeah, love turned into her. Just... her.

Then she left.

Not like, storming out or slamming doors or screaming. Nah. It was quiet. Slow. Like when you’re trying to hold onto water with your hands. We just started talking less. I’d text, she’d reply hours later. Or I’d call, and she’d say “Hey, can I call you back?” And eventually... she didn’t. We had this one final talk — no yelling, no drama. Just this heavy silence and a couple of “I think we both know” kind of lines. And that was that.

People love to say stuff like, “Time heals all wounds.” I mean, sure, kinda. I’m not crying into my pillow every night or anything. But when I think about love — real love — she’s still the first person that comes to mind. Not because I haven’t moved on or whatever. I’ve met people since. Dated. Had fun. Learned a lot. But... nothing’s felt quite like that.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe you only get one shot at that kind of connection. I dunno. I hope I’m wrong. But so far... that’s been my experience.

It’s weird, though. Sometimes I still hear her voice in my head. Like if I’m watching a show she would've loved, I’ll think, She would've totally cried at this part. Or when I walk past that coffee shop we always debated about — she was convinced their lattes were better than mine. She was wrong, obviously. But still.

When someone mattered that much, they don’t just disappear, y'know? They sorta stick around — in your thoughts, your habits, your playlists, even your stupid little inside jokes you now tell to yourself.

So yeah. “No you, no love.” It’s not just some cheesy caption or Tumblr quote. It’s what it feels like. Like love existed, but it had her name written all over it. And now that she’s gone, everything feels kinda... muted. Like the color faded a bit.

Will I love again? Probably. Hopefully. But it’ll be different. Not better, not worse — just different. And that’s okay. I’m not trying to replace her. I’m just trying to be open to whatever’s next.

But until that happens, I still carry her with me. Not like a wound or anything. More like... a reminder. That I got to love someone, really love them, and they loved me back. Maybe not forever, but for a while. And man — that’s something.