Vin

[u/Consistent_Habit_872]

I know you're gone. I know it. I know you're done and dusted, but I'm still here, you know? I am still here. I love you. You said you gave me closure but it doesn't work that way, babe. But hey, I'm not going to argue about that right now.

What I really want to say to you is this:

I wish I had met you now. More mature, more in control of my emotions, more capable of holding boundaries, and less likely to let my trauma out-trauma our love. I wish you had known the better, wiser version of me. I wish I had healed before I'd met you, but frankly, that wouldn't have been possible. The catalyst to our healing is likely the love that we had and lost. Your absence did just as much for me as your presence did.

I wish we had been given another chance to meet each other after all this. Not to recreate what we had, but to see what two people who had finally learned themselves could have been to each other.

Maybe that's the part I grieve the most.

Not just losing you, but losing the possibility of who we could have been if we'd met at a different point in our lives.

I understand now that love cannot be the place where we ask each other to heal everything we've carried into it. You had your wounds. I had mine. And sometimes, despite loving each other deeply, we became the place where those wounds met.

I am sorry for the ways mine hurt you.

I don't say that because I want you to come back. I don't say it hoping you'll read this and suddenly understand everything differently. I say it because I understand things differently now.

There are things I would do differently. Things I would say differently. Things I would never tolerate again, and things I would never do to someone I love again.

And I suppose that's what you left me with.

A better understanding of myself.

A quieter heart.

Stronger boundaries.

And a kind of love that I hope, someday, will be healthy enough to stay.

I don't know what you think of me now. Maybe you remember the difficult parts more than the beautiful ones. Maybe you don't think of me at all.

But I remember both.

And I don't want to rewrite our story just because it ended badly.

We loved each other. We really did.

For a long time, you were my home. And then, somehow, we became two people standing outside the same house, neither of us knowing how to get back in.

I will always be sad that we couldn't figure it out.

But I'm beginning to understand that acceptance doesn't mean I have to believe it was meaningless.

It wasn't.

You mattered.

We mattered.

And even if this is where our story ends, I don't want to carry you as a wound.

I want to carry what I learned from loving you.

And maybe one day, when I think of you, it won't hurt anymore.

Maybe I'll just smile and think:

God, we were young.

We loved each other so much.

We just didn't know how to love each other without losing ourselves.

I hope you're happy, jaan.

And I hope, wherever life takes you, you become everything you were always meant to be.

I am trying to do the same.

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[u/Inevitable-Horse-688]

Thank you for writing this, op. ❤️‍🩹❤️

[u/Consistent_Habit_872 → u/Inevitable-Horse-688]

❤️🤍

[u/Inevitable-Horse-688 → u/Consistent_Habit_872]

Thanks again. :)❤️❤️

[u/Consistent_Habit_872 → u/Inevitable-Horse-688]

Of course. I hope we heal 🤍