u/whatileftout

i put you on a pedestal. i truly believed you were perfect, and for a while, you felt that way to me. i don’t know what changed.

you’re still you. you’re still sweet, kind, and caring. but somewhere along the way, something shifted in how i experience us. i can’t even fully explain it.

maybe it’s when you tell me you’ll do something but don’t always follow through. maybe it’s the little details i’ve noticed changing over time that leave me feeling unsettled.

maybe it’s because i feel like i pour so much into you and our connection, and i don’t always feel that same effort returned. maybe it’s because you accept the bare minimum from yourself sometimes, while i’m hoping for more. maybe it’s the distance i feel whenever we lose touch, even for a little while.

i honestly don’t know what it is.
lately, i’ve found myself getting a little triggered by things that never used to bother me… the way you dress, the way you approach certain situations, the way you seem unaware of what i’m feeling.

i keep trying to convince myself it’s nothing, that i’m overthinking, but those feelings keep coming back. they fade for a while, then return, and i’m starting to wonder if they always will.

that’s the part that gets me the most. i don’t know if this is something inside me, something between us, or something that’s changed without either of us realizing it. all i know is that i don’t know how to feel anymore, and that uncertainty has been weighing on me.

i hated that you had female friends.

not because they were women, but because they got parts of you i never did. they spent more time with you than i ever could, and i watched how effortlessly you gave it to them.

i saw how much you loved talking to them. i knew you told them about me. strangely, that wasn't the part that hurt.

the jealousy came from somewhere much deeper.

i wasn't naive. i knew exactly why they gravitated toward you. i knew the kind of person you were. you were comfort. you were the person people ran to when life became too heavy to carry alone. they trusted you with their fears, their heartbreaks, the quiet disasters they couldn't tell anyone else. and you welcomed them into that space. you let them in.

i let you have that, too.

but i couldn't understand it.

i've never been someone who hands pieces of my life to other people. my fears, my grief, my private battles... they've always felt sacred to me. intimate. they're not things i scatter around hoping someone will hold them. they're reserved for the few who truly matter.

so watching other women occupy that place with you unraveled something inside me.

it wasn't possession. it wasn't insecurity because they were women.

it was knowing they had access to a version of you that i believed should've been rare.

we never resolved it. we just carried it, quietly, until it became heavier than either of us could lift. the longer i stayed, the worse it became. eventually, i stopped believing there was a future for us.

because i knew myself.

and i knew you.

and somewhere between who i was and who you were, there was a distance neither of us could ever cross.

there's something about this summer that keeps pulling me backward.

i don't usually live in the past. if anything, i've always been good at letting go, at closing chapters and continuing on without looking over my shoulder. but somehow, memories of you still find me. they arrive silently, without permission, until i'm surrounded by them again.

i've asked myself countless times what it was about you that made you impossible to replace. maybe it wasn't that you were perfect. maybe it was that you were unlike anyone i've ever met. there was something so raw about you, so open, so deeply mental. you were complicated in every way, yet somehow being with you felt effortless. we carried so many flaws, so many problems, but back then they felt microscopic compared to how much we loved eachother.

and yet, love wasn't enough.

i still had to leave. i had to choose myself, no matter how desperately you asked me to stay, no matter how much pain surrounded our goodbye. i couldn't keep sacrificing my own peace to hold us together. leaving broke something in me too, but i know now it was the only choice either of us could survive.

years have passed, and i don't spend my days wishing for us again. i truly let you go a long time ago. that's the strange part. i'm not waiting for you. i'm not searching for you. and yet, every now and then, you still find your way back into my thoughts.

when i meet someone new, there's a fleeting moment where i realize they aren't you. not because i'm comparing them or expecting them to become you, but because something about what we shared has never existed in quite the same way again. then i catch myself wondering why i still measure a memory i've already released.

maybe that's what haunting really is.

it isn't wanting someone back. it isn't refusing to move on. it's carrying the shadow of something so rare that, years later, it still lingers in places you thought were empty. i let you go a lifetime ago, but every so often, your ghost still walks through my mind, reminding me that some people leave your life long before they leave your heart.

your words and your actions don’t always line up. not all the time, but enough that i notice it in every small detail between us.

and to someone who pays attention to everything… every shift, every promise, every moment of intention, it starts to sit wrong. not because i think you’re lying, and not because i think you mean harm, but because in the moment you say things that feel certain, and i end up holding onto them more literally than you do.

you don’t always follow through the way you speak. even when your intentions are good. even when you genuinely mean what you say at the time. but lately i haven’t had much patience for that gap.

and honestly, the more i sit with it, the more it frustrates me. not even in a way where i’m properly addressing it with you, more like i’m just internalizing it and letting it build.

it makes me wonder why it keeps happening. like you agree to things, you set expectations, you speak in a way that sounds solid… and then you don’t always show up to match it. it reads to me like people pleasing sometimes, like saying what feels right in the moment instead of what you can actually sustain.

am i starting to resent you?

it’s so cute how you mirror me.

i know it’s not because you don’t have a mind of your own, but because you actually understand me in a way that feels natural. like you take in what i give and respond with the same kind of energy, not copying me, but meeting me there.

you know when i want to talk, you know when i can’t, you can tell when i’m in a certain mood and you adjust without me having to explain it. it feels like you’re paying attention in a quiet, thoughtful way.

and it’s sweet how it shows up in the small things too. if i message a lot, you match it. if i respond late, you give me space in the same way. it feels like you let me set the pace, like you’re trying to do what feels right between us rather than forcing anything.

as long as you’re still being you, it’s okay. it’s still really cute.

i know you’re anxious. i know you read between every one of my actions and the things i say, like you’re trying to find certainty in all the small details. you pay attention to everything, and i can feel how much you’re scared i’ll leave, not because of me specifically, but because of what’s happened before.

you’ve held onto connections that didn’t stay. people who couldn’t meet you where you were, who couldn’t handle your softness or the size of your heart. and you were still patient with them, still tried to understand, still gave more than you got back. i don’t take that lightly.

so now, even though it’s me, even though something here feels deeper and different, there’s still that part of you waiting for the pattern to repeat. waiting for it to fall apart the same way it has before.

i understand that fear. i really do. and i can’t promise you forever, but i can be honest about what i do intend: i’m here with good intentions, and i want to spend time with you. i want to show up in ways that are real and consistent, not confusing or half present.

i just need you to let that be enough for now.

have you ever grown tired of connections that never quite fit, of meeting people, discovering the incompatibilities, and watching something promising fall short? then, one day, someone enters your life and feels unexpectedly right.

the more you get to know them, the more similarities you uncover, in the way you think, the things you do, the experiences that shaped you. it’s almost eerie, as though there’s a sense of familiarity that existed long before you met. sometimes you find yourself wondering how that could even be possible.

in a world of billions of people, it feels remarkable that life could align you with someone who embodies so much of what you always hoped for, yet often believed was too unlikely to ever find. and once that connection is there, it doesn’t fade… it deepens. it grows stronger, more meaningful, becoming something foundational.

and even then, even as it becomes more real with every passing day, it still feels almost surreal. like something you know is true, yet can hardly believe happened at all.

whatever this is between us, whatever name it may carry, it runs deeper than words can fully capture. every time you tell me how happy you are, how whole you feel simply by spending time with me, my heart softens in a way i can never quite explain. i never grow tired of hearing it. every time you speak about your feelings, about us, i feel the sincerity in every word. i don't just hear them, i carry them with me.

there is something beautiful in the way we've found each other. we are so completely enamored with one another, and somehow those feelings only seem to deepen with time. despite the distance that separates us at times, despite the uncertainty and imperfections in our communication, what we feel remains. it persists. it grows.

and perhaps that's what matters most. through every distance, every unanswered question, every challenge, we continue to choose each other. we continue to feel each other.

if what we have is enough for you, if this connection, this feeling, this quiet certainty in one another is enough, then it is more than enough for me.

i know you’re clingy. i know you’re needy. i know you want me to be obsessed with you. i know you want me to possess you, to show you just how much i care, how jealous i can get, and how deeply i can become attached. i know you want me addicted to you.

but before i can be that person for you, you need to truly know me on a deeper level. more importantly, you need to show me that you’re worth my time, worth my effort, and worth me letting go of my control.

i need to know that you genuinely want that side of me and that you’re willing to earn it. otherwise, i can’t be what you wish me to be.

you’ve shown consistency, and i appreciate that, but consistency is the bare minimum. what concerns me is that the energy has gone from more to less, and that’s not the trajectory that leads me toward becoming obsessive, attached, or fully invested.

if you want more from me, then show up. show out. give me something to believe in. make me feel chosen, desired, and pursued. show me why you’re worth the risk of me letting my guard down.

do that, and i’ll give you what you need. i’ll be your dream girl. but before you can ask for more of me, you need to understand what i need from you first.

you must be special.

you're the reason i found myself looking back on every relationship i've ever had and realizing a pattern i had never fully faced before, i was always the one who left.

somewhere along the way, while trying to deal with everything life was throwing at me, i think i lost a part of myself. i know that when i'm with someone, i'm good to them in the moment. i care deeply, i show up, and i give a lot of myself. but i never seemed to stay. every person i've loved knows that because they've lived through it with me.

and then you came into my life unexpectedly.

somehow, you brought me back to reality. you grounded me. just by watching how you move through life, how you treat people, and how naturally you give your love and care to others, i've learned so much. in a strange way, you've reminded me of who i used to be. you've reminded me that i have that same capacity for love, too.

the difference is that i could never stay long enough to fully live it.

but with you, something feels different.

i don't know how to explain it, and i don't even know exactly what this is between us. what i do know is that i can't imagine doing to you what i've done to everyone else. i can't imagine walking away the way i always have.

for some reason, you're different. you're special to me in a way i can't quite put into words. no matter how much i try to explain it, it always feels bigger than language.

i just know that meeting you changed something in me, and i don't think that's something i'll ever forget.

i'm sorry if i ever hurt you. if i ever doubted you, made you feel small, or drew you into my world only to leave you wondering where you stood, i'm sorry.

i'm sorry if i ever made you feel like you were just passing time to me. i'm sorry for the times i disappeared, abandoned conversations, raised my voice, became toxic, refused to listen, gaslit you, or shut you out when things got difficult.

none of those things came from a desire to be cruel. they were never my intentions. they came from what was familiar to me... keeping my distance, walking away from situations that felt unbalanced, avoiding conflict instead of working through it, leaving and convincing myself it was easier to stay gone.

i don't know if i'll get everything right in the future, or if i'll be better for the next person. what i do know is that i'm finally aware of how i showed up, and how much that hurt you. and for that, i am sorry.

why do you keep coming back to me? there was a time when i trusted you and let you in, when we were genuinely close. then you turned around and used everything i shared with you against me, telling other people things i told you in confidence. that was one of the coldest things you could have done, and you still chose to do it.

what i don't understand is why you keep reaching out. after all the blocks, all the time that's passed, and everything that happened between us, you still try to stay in contact. but for what? you already broke the trust between us, and you know that. why not put your energy into all the other people you've kept around instead? why do you feel the need to keep me on your roster?

i've told you no more than once, yet you keep pushing past my boundaries as if they don't matter. you don't listen, and at this point you just make yourself look foolish by continuing to try.

the strangest part is that there was a time when you occupied so much space in my mind and i cared deeply about you. but that time is gone. it doesn't feel that way anymore.

there was always something dreamy about you.

something soft and receptive, something sweet and effortless to be around. whenever we were together, it felt like we disappeared into each other's worlds. hours slipped away unnoticed, and for a little while, everything felt lighter.

beneath all of that, though, i think we both recognized something familiar in one another. we had both been through a lot. maybe that's why we treated each other so gently, like two rare and majestic creatures that somehow found each other in the middle of all the chaos.

it was beautiful while it lasted.

until it wasn't.

somewhere along the way, we got lost. our friends pulled us in different directions, and maybe that's easy to blame, but maybe it was simply life aligning things the way they were always meant to. maybe no matter how dreamy our connection felt, we were never quite the right fit.

because for all the magic between us, there was no real grounding.

and that's the hardest part for me to accept.

not that we cared for each other. not that what we had wasn't real. but that we couldn't find a way to come together and grow in the same direction. we kept drifting, carried by different currents, until eventually there was too much distance between us.

so instead of building something together, we had to let go.

we had to swim away.

it’s funny how, after certain connections end, you look back and think, if only i had found someone more understanding, more caring, more attentive, more emotionally healthy.

then six months later, life introduces you to someone who is exactly that.

and suddenly you realize they’re missing something too.

maybe they don’t have the spark.
maybe they don’t have the fire.
maybe they don’t make your heart race the way someone else once did.

and that’s when you start wondering if life is trying to teach you something.

maybe every person who enters our lives is meant to show us a different side of love.

one person teaches us passion.
another teaches us patience.
another teaches us stability.
another teaches us what it feels like to be truly seen.

we spend so much time searching for the perfect combination that we forget no one arrives carrying everything we’ve ever wanted.

maybe we’re not supposed to love people based on a checklist of conditions.

maybe we’re supposed to meet them where they are, appreciate what they bring into our lives, and accept that some people are only meant to stay for a chapter rather than the whole story.

if they’re meant for us, they’ll stay.

if they’re not, they were never ours to keep in the first place.

and maybe that’s okay.

i think of it like flowers.

some bloom for a week before they fade.
others last longer.

when one dies, another grows in its place.

it may not look the same.
it may be a different color, a different shape, a different kind altogether.

but it is beautiful in its own way.

maybe people are like that.

some are here to stay.
some are here to teach us something before they leave.

and maybe there is nothing wrong with loving people whose paths only cross ours for a little while.

because every connection changes us.

every goodbye leaves behind a lesson.

and every person we meet becomes a small part of who we are long after they’re gone.