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Sometimes, I still catch myself looking at the plans we made. Or maybe… they were just my plans — the ones where you were always a part of them. Not because I still love you, not because I miss you, but because it’s strange to remember how much I once wanted you to be there.
They say people change when they meet new people. You did. I did. And somewhere along the way, the versions of us who once fit so perfectly together started to fade. Not suddenly, not dramatically — just little by little, like ink drying on a page, until one day, we were nothing but a story left unfinished.
I used to think love was about holding on, about making things work no matter what. But now I see that sometimes, love is knowing when to let go. When to accept that the person standing in front of you is no longer the same one you fell for. That maybe, they were never meant to stay.
Dreams change. People change. Life moves forward whether we’re ready or not. And yet, it’s funny how I kept following the same plan i told you on a random night call, the same plan we once traced together — just without you in it. The destinations remained the same, but the journey felt different. Quieter. Lonelier, at times. Still, im fine.
I wonder if you ever glance back, too. If you ever see a version of your life where I still exist, where we didn’t drift apart, where we found a way to hold on just a little longer. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking — memories dressed as possibilities, nothing more.
There’s a kind of peace in knowing that what’s gone is gone. That we are who we are now because of the roads we chose to take, even when they led us away from each other. And maybe, in another life, we meet again as strangers with no history — only a future yet to be written.
But in this life, we are just two people who once meant everything, now reduced to faded conversations and distant memories. And that’s okay.
Because moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means making peace with the fact that some stories were never meant to be finished.
