We Will Be Happy in Many Different Ways

I wish you a lifetime of peace and happiness. One day, when my inner self is calm, I will be able to face you as a friend, someone who cares for you. We will find our own happiness in our own way, won't we? Goodbye for now.

Today, I met her—a bright, cheerful girl. Before meeting her, I wasn’t sure how I should feel: with anger and extreme frustration, by saying unpleasant things, or with calmness and sarcasm, or feeling weak and seeking sympathy. No matter the mindset, I still felt a bit of resistance. However, after meeting her, I was able to talk to her calmly. There was no arguing, cursing, crying, or begging. She and I were like two friends sharing the same concern: you. She introduced herself to me just as you would have. Her introduction to me was similar to how others refer to you as a colleague.

I understand what a colleague is, but a colleague does not have the same gaze as hers when she talks about you. I would never be jealous of a colleague, but I am envious of a colleague who looks at you the way she does. Even if I feel jealous or angry, I can’t deny that I am indeed envious of her. It's not because you care for her or take care of her more than you did for me. I envy her because she is just a friend, a colleague who can be close to you and go through important milestones with you, things I can no longer experience with you. She can be there for you when you need a shoulder, while I am far away. She can care for you in ways that I cannot. Every time I face her, I feel ashamed. I consider myself your lover, yet I fail to care for and understand you as she does. This makes me feel like a pretender.

I am the pretender, claiming to be your lover, yet I abandoned you when you needed me most. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. I relied on your reassuring messages: "It's okay, I'm fine. Don't worry. Just focus on your work," and truly believed you were fine. I thought I would make it up to you later by developing my career and providing a better life for both of us. I comforted myself, thinking that if I could overcome these difficulties, so could you. I convinced myself that if I didn’t care about the small details or minor inconveniences, you would feel the same way. I told myself that if I didn’t need it, you wouldn’t care either. I considered myself the one who understood you the most, but I forgot that you are no longer the person I knew before. I forgot that even as a lover, you wanted comfort and to share the small things in life with me and to go through ups and downs together. I didn’t realize that some things, once lost, cannot be compensated for.

I always thought you would be there waiting for me. As long as I looked back, I would see you. I took your patience and tolerance for granted, letting you wait until you grew weary. I missed you many times, but you remained so kind to me. Everything continued as usual, with us repeating our conversations and caring for each other like a routine. However, it seemed there were things you could comfortably discuss with her but not with me. You no longer shared many of the small details of your day with me. Instead of asking me what I liked, you asked her what gift to get me for our anniversary. Instead of asking where I wanted to go, you asked her where to take me.

I’m not sure how to fault you for this, but clearly, an outsider understands me better than someone who has been with me for years. I know this is the result of a series of messages from me saying "I’m busy," "I’ll call you later," and "It’s up to you." The phone calls where only your voice told stories while I silently responded just to get through the conversation. I slowly wore down your patience and depleted the affection you had for me. I destroyed my chance to turn things around. So, how can I blame you and her?

One day, I stumbled upon a topic discussed on social media: if you are in a relationship but meet someone more suitable, what should you do? I wondered if you were also struggling with this, if there were days you felt torn between me and her. I don’t know what "more suitable" means to you or what "better" is. But I know we didn’t start with these concepts of suitability. We began with the emotions and feelings of first love, and over time, understanding and tolerance allowed us to be together for a long time. Now that the passionate feelings of love have faded, that understanding has become too weak to keep us together. If a partner is more suitable, wouldn’t it be great?

Our mutual friends often ask me if I still love you. I can honestly admit that I still love you, although that love has diminished significantly. It has been overshadowed by time, life’s ups and downs, and my own selfishness. Perhaps it has transformed into a less intense, more enduring love. Even so, I still care deeply for you and wish to be gentle and sincere with you. That’s why whenever I think about what has happened, I feel very bitter. I never expected our relationship would reach a point where I no longer care about who loved whom more. Instead, I wonder who will leave first and who will stay.

Do you know who will be more hurt, the one who stays or the one who leaves? I’m not sure. All I know is that now I am the one leaving. I am truly not happy, but once I think it through, having someone like her by your side, caring for someone you love, is not too bad. There is no “before” or “after” in love, only those who are loved and those who are not, those who leave and those who stay. I am the one who came first and was loved, but perhaps I can’t be the one who stays. Maybe she staying is a better ending for our story. Our story was already tiring without her presence, wasn’t it?

I’ve only just realized that you endured so much for me, sacrificing many of your own habits and preferences to accommodate me. You tried to pacify your ego to indulge me. This relationship had many issues. Our situation was a significant reason for both of us to reconsider whether to continue or to end things. If she hadn’t appeared, our relationship might have dragged on until both of us were exhausted, ending in a broken heart. I can’t continue to selfishly cling to you and deprive you of the care, attention, and love you deserve from someone else.

So, let’s end it, okay? Don’t feel guilty. You have loved me, waited, been tolerant, and hurt enough. I am not good anymore, and there is no reason to continue receiving your love. Don’t feel weighed down by your feelings. It’s not that you’ve changed; we’ve both changed. Don’t feel regret for the promises you made at the beginning. You didn’t promise to stay with me forever; you only promised to love me for a long time. Eight years isn’t quite forever, but it’s not that you broke your promise. I am the one who made you unable to keep your promise. Don’t blame yourself for hurting me. Although I am hurt, I don’t want you to feel a pain worse than what I’ve experienced.

Rest assured, I don’t promise I won’t be in pain, but I promise I will be okay. I don’t promise I’ll face everything calmly, but I promise I will be strong and overcome it. I promise I will be happy, though I am not noble enough to wish you and the new person happiness. I hope you don’t miss out on what’s in front of you. I hope you find the right person who will accompany you further. I hope she will love you well and offer you a gentle, enduring love. I wish you a lifetime of peace and joy. One day, when I have found my inner peace, I will be able to face you calmly as a friend, someone who cares about you. We will find our own happiness in our own way, won’t we? Goodbye for now.

"If We Love Each Other, We Must Part"

Choosing to part ways is not because I no longer love you, because of betrayal, or a third party. It’s simply that our love has reached a point where one of us needs to say goodbye so that we can both part ways properly. If you love me, let me go so that happiness can come to us both. How long has our relationship been, I wonder? I no longer remember the anniversary of our relationship, not because I want to forget, but because every time I remember, I don’t want to experience it again. I no longer remember the anticipation and happiness when you surprised me with gifts. Perhaps it’s because I know those gifts were not what I truly wanted. I also forgot the shyness and feelings that couples in love should have. Whether it’s because we’ve been together too long or because one of us has changed, I know you still care for me and love me, but it’s not the same anymore.

The hand-holding is gone, the gift-hunting has faded, and the warm hugs are no longer comforting. You are right here next to me, but it feels like you are so far away. How many times have we gone through the day without speaking? Each of us in our own separate world. When did our world become so distant? And when did it become so difficult for me to ask you for anything? You’re still the same sensitive and caring person, but I can’t feel it anymore. You’re still the same person who used to comfort me, but I can’t find it anymore. I’m not blaming you or anyone else; I’m just acknowledging that our love has faded, and we should move on.

When we were young, we could care about each other, and I enjoyed it. When we started our relationship, I loved every detail. But now, the details of our life together no longer matter. Our relationship has shifted from love to habit, from excitement to routine. We have become accustomed to being together, and that makes it harder to leave. But staying together just because it’s a habit is not what we want. We need to let go to find our true happiness.

I am not saying this out of anger or frustration. It’s a calm acceptance of reality. Our love has changed, and it’s time for both of us to move forward. I hope you can understand this and accept it without regret. Let’s end it peacefully. I hope we both find what we are truly looking for, and that our future is bright and fulfilling.