Two years ago, I was probably still in a constant tug-of-war with myself, wondering if I should let my feelings for you grow or let them fade into the background. Little did I know that the next two years would become the most cherished chapter of my life.
And me from two years ago wouldn’t believe that she’d be the one to end whatever we have. She was so certain of staying, of holding on, even when things got tough. What once felt unbreakable now feels like something I need to let go of, not because I want to, but because it’s what I need.
I never imagined I’d be the one to say goodbye, but maybe that’s part of growing up — knowing when to hold on and when to let go. And this time, I have to choose to let go.
Our interactions back then were a mix of irritation and laughter, like the time you sent old pictures of me in the group chat, and I retaliated by making your childhood photo my profile picture. We blocked each other — well, maybe it was just me who did. But those little wars were the start of something I didn’t realize was brewing beneath the surface.
I’ll never forget the debate you joined. I watched it, dragging my cousin along, because somehow, you had become someone important in my life without me even realizing it. Those first six months of 2022 were filled with teasing and denial. I tried convincing myself that I didn’t really like you — that I just enjoyed our conversations. I even tried to distract myself by liking someone else, though it didn’t work because, deep down, it was always you.
It took some time before I finally let myself feel something for you, even though I set boundaries, convincing myself that it was okay to just be friends. We talked about school and teased each other endlessly, but there were signs that maybe you felt the same way. Still, I didn’t overthink it because, at that point, I was content with just being your friend.
September 18, 2022, was a significant turning point in our story. You confessed, though you didn’t clearly state what you wanted to happen next. I took it as a sign that we were something more, even though we were still awkward around each other in person. The teasing from others made it difficult for us to talk freely, and it added a layer of complexity to our relationship.
November 2022 was a dark time for me, one that I wish I could erase. It was a period filled with confusion and pain, and even now, I don’t fully understand why you did what you did. Maybe you were confused, or maybe you genuinely liked her. But whatever the reason, it hurt me deeply, and that pain lingers to this day.
Even though I was the one who walked away, I was still the one most affected. Despite everything, I came back to you after three days because you apologized, and I thought that was enough. But a month later, you left, saying you only came back out of guilt. That was supposed to be my last straw, the point where I finally said enough. But I couldn’t stay angry at you for long, and after three or four months, we were back together.
When we started again, it seemed like things were going well. We talked about finishing our goals first, about understanding each other when we were busy. Despite being together for a while, we still struggled with conversations when we were face-to-face. I envied your friends who seemed to connect with you so easily.
It seemed like it was easier for you to share things with your friends, but when it came to me, it was a struggle. Especially in November 2023, when you were going through something — I only found out about it from overhearing your conversations with others. It felt unfair because I wanted to be there for you, but it seemed like you didn’t need me.
But dwelling on the past won’t help. That is why I am writing this. Because I want to remember you in a positive way. I want to remember you as someone who brought light into my life, even if that light was sometimes overshadowed by misunderstandings and pain.
There were days when we would just sit in comfortable silence, not needing to say a word because just being in each other’s presence was enough. Those were the days when I felt most at peace. You had this way of calming my storms, of making the chaos in my mind quiet down, even if just for a little while. I miss that. I miss you. I miss us. But I also know that we made the right decision. We needed to part ways to grow, to learn, to find ourselves again. And even though it hurts, I’m grateful for that.
I’m grateful for the chance to have loved you and to have been loved by you.
Sometimes, I think about what could have been if we had stayed together. Would we have made it through the rough patches? Would we have grown closer, or would we have drifted apart? Would we have built a future together, or would we have realized that we were better off as friends? These are the questions that keep me up at night, the thoughts that linger in my mind long after I’ve tried to push them away. But I know that dwelling on what could have been doesn’t change what is. And what is, is that we are no longer together, and that’s okay. It’s okay because we had our time, and it was beautiful.
I want you to know that I’ll never regret the time we spent together. I’ll never regret loving you. I’ll never regret the late-night talks, the inside jokes, the shared dreams. I’ll never regret the way you made me feel, the way you made me believe in love, the way you made me believe in myself.
There are days when I allow myself to grieve, to feel the loss, to acknowledge the sadness. Because I know that healing isn’t linear, that it’s okay to take a step back sometimes, that it’s okay to miss you, to miss us.
I think about the future sometimes, about where life will take us, about whether our paths will cross again. I wonder if, years from now, we’ll look back on our time together with fondness, with a sense of nostalgia, with a smile. I hope we do. I hope that no matter where life takes us, we’ll always remember what we had as something beautiful, something meaningful, something that shaped us into the people we are today.
I know that I’ll carry you with me, in my heart, in my memories, in the lessons I’ve learned. You’ll always be a part of me, and I’ll always be a part of you. That’s the beauty of love — it leaves an imprint on your soul, a mark that time can’t erase. And even though we’re no longer together, that imprint remains, a reminder of the love we shared, the bond we formed, the life we lived together.
I hope that you never forget that you were once deeply loved, that you were once someone’s whole world, that you made a difference in someone’s life.
And while we are no longer together, I want you to know that I’ll always be here. No longer as your records or almost lover, but as a friend.
I’m sorry, love. I know I promised I’d stay, that I’d always be here for you. But I’m struggling more than I ever expected. For so long, the reasons to stay always outweighed the doubts — the warmth of your smile, the memories we built, the belief that things would eventually get better. Those kept me coming back to you, hoping we could find our way.
But now, the reasons to leave have grown stronger. The misunderstandings that pile up, the distance that seems impossible to close, the painful truth that we’re not as close as we once were — these are the things I can no longer push aside.
I’ve tried to hold on, to mend what’s broken, to find a way back to how we used to be. But it feels like we’re on different paths now, and no matter how much I wish we weren’t, I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay.
After leaving you, I found a sense of peace I hadn’t anticipated. The weight I’d been carrying in my heart and shoulders suddenly felt lighter. It’s as if, in letting go, I gave myself permission to breathe deeply for the first time in a long while. The heaviness that had been hanging over me for so long began to lift. It’s surprising how stepping away can sometimes bring the clarity and lightness you didn’t even know you needed.
I did not know how much peace leaving you would bring.
Wala na akong hinihintay.
