A Complicated Relationship.

...I watched you that day, turning the pages of a story that felt so familiar to you, yet somehow distant. You didn’t notice it at first—the way your hands lingered on the pages, like you were afraid to let go of them. You were stuck there, weren’t you? Stuck in that first chapter. The one where everything was perfect...

...Do you remember how it felt back then? The smiles. The laughter. The way the world seemed smaller when it was just the two of you. You were writing your own fantasy, weren’t you? Ignoring the small red flags. The little imperfections. Because in your mind, this story was too beautiful to interrupt. Love is the honeymoon phase you know. The smiles. Ignoring the red flags because you want to believe your fantasy. But those red flags, they didn’t go away. But you know that now, don’t you?

...I felt it too—how easy it was to believe in that dream. To convince yourself that love should feel like this forever. But the thing about stories is, they change. You turn the page, and suddenly. The perfect fantasy isn’t enough. Reality creeps in. The ink starts to smudge. And you begin to realize that this love isn’t just about your dream. Real love is realizing there is no more of just your fantasy. You have to build one together...

You don’t want to admit it, but I know you’ve noticed. You’ve started seeing the cracks between the lines, haven’t you? It’s not just about what you imagined anymore. Now it’s about compromise—learning to meet them halfway. You’ve had to give up pieces of the story you thought would be yours alone. And that’s hard, isn’t it?

.... Compromising. It’s that part of love no one tells you about when you’re writing the first few chapters. You thought love was going to be easy, just like those early days. But now, here you are. In the middle of the book. Realizing that if this story is going to last. You both need to put in the work. It’s not just your fantasy anymore, is it?

...I saw that. The last time you two fought. How you both held onto your own versions of the story. Unwilling to bend. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Trying to make them fit into the pages you’ve already written in your head. But here’s the thing. They’ve been writing too. And you can’t finish this book alone....

The truth is, love isn’t about winning. It’s not about whose version of the story gets told. It’s about building something new. Something unimaginable that belongs to both of you. Piece by piece. You give a little. They give a little. And somehow, through all the mess. You created something that’s real. And that’s where the real story begins....

You’re probably wondering if it’s worth it. If giving up parts of yourself to keep the story going is the right choice. I can feel your doubt—it sits in the pit of your stomach like a stone. But the thing is, compromise doesn’t mean losing yourself. It means making space for both of you in this story. It means choosing to write the next chapter together....

So where are you now? Still holding onto the fantasy of what you thought this love was supposed to be? Or have you started to see that the best stories are the ones that take effort, patience, and yes, compromise? I know you feel tired. Like the pages are getting harder to turn. But before you close the book too quickly, ask yourself: What could the next chapter be?

...You don’t have to decide right now. I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m just that voice in your head. The one you’ve been trying to ignore. I’m just the part of you that’s asking the questions you already know the answers to, even if you’re not ready to face them yet.

...You can’t control every word of this story. But you can choose how you write your parts. Maybe it’s not perfect—maybe it never will be. But the real question is: Can you both find a way to meet in the middle, to write the next chapter, together?

Think about it. Before you turn the page...

You’ve been holding onto this story for a long time. You’ve invested yourself in it, and it’s not easy to let go of something that’s written in ink. But you’re not the only author here. No matter how it goes. It’s written in ink. You can’t erase it from your mind. Even if the story doesn’t end the way you want. It’s still part of you. Never regret it. It wasn't a mistake. You were just hoping they’ll fit into the pages you’ve already written.