u/Glittering_Rain1472

I miss you. That’s really what I wanted to say to you.

I know that saying that doesn’t change anything. I know we’re not going to go back to before this happened, and I know that even if we could, I don’t know if I would want to go back to exactly what we had, knowing everything I know now.

But I still miss you.

I miss you despite everything. I miss the person you were to me, and I miss the life we had. I miss having you as my person. I miss the stupid everyday things. I miss having something happen and instinctively wanting to tell you.

And I’m angry.

I’m angry that we can’t go back and try again. I’m angry that you decided that leaving was better for you than trying. I know you thought you were doing the right thing, and I know you didn’t make the decision lightly. But I wanted you to try harder. I wanted you to want it enough.

I wanted you to believe in us like I did.

The hardest thing for me is that I would have kept going. I would have tried to fix the things that weren’t working. I would have adapted. I would have accepted that we weren’t perfect and thought that what we had was worth working for.

And maybe that was the difference between us.

You reached a point where you decided that we were incompatible. I reached a point where I thought we had things we needed to work on, but that the good we had was worth it.

I don’t know whether either of us was objectively right.

Maybe there were things you needed from me that I didn’t understand quickly enough. Maybe I made things harder than they needed to be. Maybe some of my reactions made you feel like you were constantly waiting for the next thing you’d done wrong.

But I also think there were things I needed from you that I didn’t fully understand while we were together.

I wanted to feel considered without always having to explain why something mattered to me. I wanted more of that natural thoughtfulness and intentionality. I wanted to feel like you were thinking about me in the little things, rather than me having to tell you what those little things meant.

And maybe you were trying. Maybe you did adapt. Maybe I didn’t always recognise that.

Maybe two people can love each other and genuinely try, and still not quite manage to make each other feel understood in the way they need.

That’s the part I hate.

Because I don’t want to turn you into a bad person just so I can get over you.

You weren’t.

You were someone I loved enormously. You made me happy. We had so much that was good. I felt loved by you. We laughed. We had fun. We made plans. We built a life together. There are so many memories that I don’t want to rewrite just because the ending hurts.

And then you walked away.

That’s the part I still can’t quite get my head around.

I keep thinking about the version of you from the beginning. The person who booked dinners, bought me little things, got excited about seeing me, made plans, and seemed so certain about us.

And then somehow we got here.

I wish I’d understood sooner that you were becoming unhappy. I wish I’d understood what was happening underneath all the little things we argued about. Maybe if I had, I could have done something differently.

But maybe I couldn’t.

Maybe you had already reached a conclusion I couldn’t have talked you out of.

And that’s what I have to accept.

I wish I knew what you think about now. I wish I knew whether you ever wonder if you made the right decision. I wish I knew whether you miss me in the way that I miss you.

But I can’t know.

And I can’t keep trying to get those answers from you.

So this is the part where I have to let you go, even though some part of me still desperately wants you to turn around.

I still hope that one day you understand what I was trying to say. I hope you understand that the things I reacted to weren’t always about the thing itself. Sometimes I was trying, badly, to tell you that I wanted to feel considered and understood.

And maybe I should have known how to say that better.

I hope you find happiness.

I genuinely do.

And if I’m being completely honest, there is still a small, selfish part of me that hopes one day you look back and wonder whether you gave up too soon.

Maybe you will.

Maybe you won’t.

But I can’t live waiting for you to change your mind.

You made your decision.

I didn’t get to make it with you, and I didn’t agree with it, but I have to live with it.

I wish I didn’t miss you.

I wish I could look at everything that happened and simply decide that you weren’t my person.

But that’s not where I am yet.

Right now, I just know that I loved you.

I still love you.

And I miss you