Today, I stumbled upon a beautiful phrase — “the love that remains.” It made me think of you.
You were that love. Maybe not the forever kind. But the kind that lingers softly in memories, in moments, in lessons learned.

Tomorrow… it was supposed to be a day I once looked forward to the most. A special one. But now, it just feels like another ordinary day. And that’s okay.

I still wear the sunflower bracelet you gave me last Christmas. Not because I’m holding on, but because it reminds me — that I was once loved, that I was once truly happy. That even if we didn’t last, there were moments that meant something. That mattered.

You helped me realize a lot about life. About myself. And even though it hurt, I’m grateful for that. I really am.

So here it is — a quiet kind of goodbye.
I’m moving on with my life. I’m letting you go. Fully, freely, and with love.
But more importantly, I’m letting myself go too — freeing myself from the heaviness of insecurities, from thoughts that whispered I wasn’t enough.
Not everything is meant to stay. I’m learning to accept that.

Wherever life takes you, I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope timing is on your side, and peace follows close behind.

Thank you… for being part of my story, even if it was only for a chapter.
This is my last message to you. If the universe ever lets us cross paths again, I hope we can look at each other and smile — without sadness, just light.

As I was watching the sunset yesterday, a thought suddenly came to me — I often used to say that I am a sunflower, and you are my sun.
Maybe… my sun needed to set, so I could finally experience the moon.

And in that moment, I realized — you aren’t bad, and neither are the memories we shared. Maybe your purpose as the sun wasn’t just to shine for this one sunflower. Maybe you had more skies to light, more worlds to warm.

I am slowly learning to accept that you are not meant for me.

Like the irony of life, sometimes we have to endure the heat before we can appreciate the beauty of the sunset.
Not all endings are sad — just like the sunset.
Maybe we didn’t end things the way we imagined, but I don’t regret a single moment of what we had.
I don’t regret letting you in, trusting you, even with the scars I carried.
You were my serendipity — an unexpected joy I never thought I’d feel again.

You were the person I didn’t see coming, yet brought me light I had forgotten I deserved.
And maybe… maybe my role as a sunflower was never to keep the sun, but simply to admire it while it shone on me.

Because not all beautiful things are meant to be ours forever.

So I’ll keep being a sunflower — standing tall, seeking light, finding purpose.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be the sunflower you’ll one day look back on.

It’s been more than a week since my heart broke — not just a simple crack, but a shattering. And each piece still aches with every reminder, every silence, every memory. I loved deeply, truly, and fully. That in itself is both a blessing and a curse. To give everything and be left with nothing feels like the cruelest kind of empty.

I keep asking myself: Do I deserve this pain? Did I do something wrong, in this life or another? Why does it feel like the universe is punishing me for loving someone with my whole heart?

There are so many “whys” flooding my mind. Questions I may never get the answers to. And though I try — I try to smile, to be okay, to live as though I’m not hurting — it’s almost impossible. Even the little blessings I know I have feel small beneath the weight of this pain. I want to be happy, to be grateful, to move forward… but it’s hard to see the sun when you’re standing in the middle of the storm.

Flashbacks hit me when I least expect them. I remember the way your mom said, “I hope this is the last time,” when we met. I wonder if that was a sign. I wonder who I’ll become in the stories you’ll tell about your past. Will I be a lesson? A mistake? A forgotten chapter?

I want to be the bigger person — to be kind, forgiving, and at peace. But I’m struggling. I’m angry. I hate that I feel some hate. I hate that I don’t always wish you well. That’s not the Gladys I want to be. That’s not the version of me I’m proud of. I want to keep my heart soft. I want to be understanding. I want to forgive — not just you, but myself too.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday… maybe I’ll find peace in the idea that I am going through all of this because I once was loved. And because I once dared to love with all I had. And that, no matter how much it hurts now, means something.

For now, I will just keep writing. Keep breathing. Keep healing — slowly, softly, in my own time.

“Maybe next time I’ll be enough
You’ll give me everythin’ instead of givin’ up
Maybe next time won’t be a waste
You’ll be the one and not the onе that got away
So, I count down the days ’til I won’t have to say

Maybe nеxt time” – Jamie Miller

I am here writing this to you. I am not sure if you will be able to read it or not. But still, I would like to let you know these things for the last time.

I am still hurting, I don’t know what else should I do now. I am like a shattered glass, a puzzle with a missing piece. I don’t know how I am going to carry on with my life. I know healing will take time – a really really long time and this add to the relationship trauma that I already had. I am not writing this so you could feel guilt. I just would like to have this chance just to say THANK YOU.

Thank you for the time that you gave me love, when I couldn’t even love myself.

Thank you for making these past years bearable.

Thank you for atleast giving me a chance to felt what was happiness, though it didn’t last but still I am grateful.

Thank you for making few of my dreams come true.

Thank you for giving me an extended family and circle of new people.

Thank you for allowing me to love you.

There were many other small things that I am grateful for to you.

Even our partnership did not last long, I am still thankful to you.

Pain will always haunt me but atleast I have fond and good memories of you.

Thank you for showing me, I can be so much more that I am.

And sorry for everything. Sorry I am not able to wish your happiness right now. But maybe soon, when the scars fade I will be able to. Sorry for deleting all the memories we had, maybe just my coping mechanism.

This is my last letter to you. You are free now. Thank you and I love you.

Your 🌻