There’s a particular kind of ache that comes from losing something you actually cared about, something you wanted to protect, to grow with, to show up for in all the ways that mattered. But sometimes care isn’t enough when your timing’s off.
I didn’t mean to fumble it. I just… couldn’t get myself together fast enough.
Not because I didn’t see the value. Not because I didn’t want it. But because healing isn’t instant. Because unlearning takes time. Because sometimes life teaches you the lesson after the test.
Now I’m sitting with the silence. The space where something beautiful used to live.
And I think what hurts the most is knowing that I was finally becoming the person who could’ve done it right.
But maybe this is the closure: the understanding that love, even when lost, still teaches. That regret doesn’t make you weak, it makes you real. And that just because something didn’t last doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.
So to what I lost:
Thank you for being something I wanted to fight for.
I’m sorry I didn’t show up sooner.
And I hope wherever you are, you feel whole.
I’ll keep growing.
Even if you don’t get to see it.