maybe somewhere we stayed.
i still carry you everywhere.
i think about you in places you’ve never even been to. in grocery stores. at red lights. during late nights when everyone else is asleep and the world finally goes quiet enough for me to hear my own thoughts again. somehow they always lead back to you.
sometimes i wonder if you would even recognize the person i became after losing you. i don’t think i do either.
it’s strange how someone can leave your life but never really leave your mind. you’re still here in everything. in the way i love. in the way i panic when people pull away. in the way i can’t open my heart properly anymore because some part of me still belongs to you and refuses to let go.
i know people say “move on” like it’s some simple choice. like grief has an expiration date. but they don’t understand what it felt like to finally be seen by someone after feeling invisible your whole life.
before you, i genuinely believed nobody could ever love me deeply. i thought maybe i was just one of those people destined to watch everyone else experience romance while i stayed lonely forever. then you happened. and for the first time in my life, somebody looked at me like i was worth something.
you saw my face. you called me beautiful when i couldn’t even look at myself properly in the mirror. do you understand how life-changing that was for someone like me?
i think that’s why losing you destroyed me so badly.
because i didn’t just lose a relationship. i lost the first person who ever made me feel wanted in a real way. i lost the future i built in my head. i lost the version of myself that still believed love could stay.
and maybe that sounds dramatic to other people. maybe they’d say “you’ll find someone else” but they don’t understand. every call, every conversation, every tiny memory lives inside my chest like it happened yesterday.
i still remember the way i used to wait for your messages. the comfort of hearing your voice. the feeling of knowing somewhere in this huge world there was someone who chose me.
and now i spend most nights trying not to think about the fact that you stopped choosing me.
i blame myself more than i’ll probably ever admit out loud. i replay everything constantly wondering which version of me could’ve saved us. maybe if i was prettier. calmer. less emotional. less difficult. maybe if i loved differently you would’ve stayed.
deep down i know relationships are never only one person’s fault, but grief doesn’t care about logic. grief just wants somewhere to put the pain. so i put it onto myself over and over again.
people always tell us life moves on. maybe it does. but mine has felt paused since january 2025.
i’ve tried talking to other people after you. i’ve tried pretending i was okay. tried convincing myself i could start over and love someone new. but every connection feels hollow because i compare everyone to you without even meaning to. nobody feels like home anymore.
sometimes i think i keep you alive inside my head because i’m terrified that fully letting go means admitting i’ll never experience that kind of love again.
and maybe the saddest part is that i still pray for you every day.
i ask God to keep you safe. to protect your heart. to let you sleep peacefully at night. i wonder if anyone takes care of you when you’re sick. i wonder if you’re happy now. i wonder if you ever think about me at random the way i think about you.
i wonder if losing me hurt you even half as much as losing you hurt me.
i don’t hate you. i don’t think i ever could. i just miss you in a way that has lived inside my bones for so long that it became part of who i am.
and maybe in another life, or another universe, or another version of this world, we made it.
maybe somewhere we stayed.