A Journey Through Love and Loss

We met in the quiet season between who we were and who we thought we’d become. At first, everything felt effortless — like the world had finally placed the right two people in the same room at the right time. You smiled, and my whole life shifted.

We built something. Mornings with coffee and laughter, nights spent tangled in words and skin. We shared dreams like secrets — fragile, hopeful, maybe too many. Maybe too fast. But love doesn’t wait politely. It storms in and makes itself at home.

I thought we were growing together.

You were growing away from me.

There wasn’t one moment where it fell apart. It was a slow unraveling. Missed calls. Short answers. Eyes that didn’t meet mine like they used to. We fought the silence with noise, thinking it would drown the distance. It didn’t.

You started building a future I didn’t recognize. One where I wasn’t standing next to you.

I loved you — more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But love, it turns out, isn’t always enough. Timing matters. So does truth. So does the way two people choose to hold or release one another.

You let go first. I kept holding on.

And in the end, we both walked away a little more broken, a little more human.

This is not a story with a happy ending. But it’s honest. And sometimes, that’s the best we can give each other.

We loved. We lost.

And somehow, we go on.