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Today I found myself thinking about a comparison that is probably imperfect but one that led me to reflect on something that feels unfair. Society seems to understand certain struggles and forms of suffering with relative ease.

When someone has smoked for years and tries to quit, most people recognize that there are habits, patterns, physical and psychological dependence, memories attached to it and an ongoing battle behind every relapse. No one expects a person to stop craving cigarettes overnight. It is understood to be a complex process.

Yet when it comes to love, or feelings that remain long after a relationship has ended, that understanding seems to disappear much more quickly. The response is often simple: “move on,” “get over it,” “there are other people.” As if emotions operated according to the same rules as conscious decisions.

The comparison between smoking and loving is not really the heart of the matter because smoking is a behavior, an action a person chooses to repeat. Loving is not a behavior. Loving is an emotional state.

Perhaps a fairer comparison would be between smoking and actively pursuing an impossible relationship. Even if the analogy is imperfect, it still points to something that stands out to me, the difference between how society understands some struggles while minimizing others.

There are people who fully understand that overcoming an addiction is difficult because it means letting go of something that has been part of your life for a long time. Yet those same people often seem less willing to understand that letting go of someone can also mean letting go of a part of yourself.

You do not lose only a person, you also lose plans, imagined conversations, shared dreams and a version of the future that existed in your mind.

Perhaps that is why I struggle with the idea that continuing to love someone automatically means wasting your life. There is an important difference between living while waiting for someone and living while still loving someone.

I do not believe a person is a failure because they cannot simply switch off a feeling whenever they want, nor do I believe that the only valid way to move forward is to forget completely. Sometimes feelings simply remain and not because we deliberately hold onto them but because they become part of the mark another person has left on us.

Maybe the real problem is not feeling, maybe it is becoming unable to move and those are not the same thing.

A person can accept reality, understand that they will probably never be with someone again and still carry love for that person. They can continue working, building a future, meeting new people and living a full life. The love remains but it is no longer at the center of everything.

If one day it fades away, that is okay but if it never disappears completely, perhaps that is okay too. Perhaps some people become a permanent part of who we are. Not as an open wound, nor as an endless hope but as a quiet presence that stays with us. Something that no longer defines our life, yet does not need to be torn from it either.

Ours is not one of them.

Ours bears the cruel face of distance, that invisible border that does not kill love but forces it to exist with empty hands.

Even when it feels like an endless ocean, I keep thinking that oceans were made to be crossed, not to surrender before them.

Because you are still breathing beneath the same sky, you still exist somewhere in this world and there is something about that that feels a lot like hope.

There are nights when the pain convinces me that everything is lost but then I remember that our story end because of miles and no matter how vast they seem, are still less final than a permanent goodbye.

That is why I want to believe that some distances can be shortened, that some paths can find each other again, that some hearts can learn how to return.

Maybe it is naive, maybe it is only love speaking through its wounds but there is a part of me that still refuses to turn you into the past.

Because as long as life keeps writing new pages, as long as there are mornings we have not yet lived, I will keep believing that it is worth fighting for something that once felt like home.

And maybe we will never overcome the distance or maybe we will but if there is one thing I have learned from loving you, it is that some feelings are far too precious to abandon without fighting for them until the very end.

You live in my thoughts like a song that never ends, like an echo moving through every room of my soul, reminding me that I once found something beautiful.

I miss you on the difficult days and on the peaceful ones too, Imiss you when the world feels unbearably heavy and when, for a moment, it feels light.

I miss you because you became part of the way I learned how to exist.

There are moments when your memory hurts, not because I have stopped loving you but because I still do so with the same intensity from a place where I can no longer reach you.

Even then when I think of you, amid all the sadness, something else appears, an immense tenderness, a quiet gratitude for having crossed paths with you in this life.

Because you were calm when everything was noise, you were home when I felt lost, you were that invisible hand that could hold me up effortlessly when the world seemed to be falling apart.

There are still nights when I wish you would come back.

Not because I want to erase the past but because I still imagine a future where our stories find each other again.

If that day never comes, if the distance keeps growing until it disappears into the horizon, I will keep carrying your name with me like someone protecting an irreplaceable treasure.

Because I think some people pass through our lives and others leave footprints.

And then there is you, the person who stayed living inside my heart, the absence that still hurts, the love that still blooms.

You are the reason a part of my soul still looks toward the door, waiting in silence for the miracle of finding you again.

Some absences feel small until you remember the warmth they carried.

Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine our fingers finding each other.

Like two paths that were lost and against all logic cross again.

Every night I give the same wish to the darkness.

That life grants us another chance, that time stops being a wall and becomes a bridge instead.

Not to go back but to find each other again.

With everything we have learned from pain, with all the love that survived the distance.

There is still a part of me that keeps a place for you.

Like a lamp glowing in a window waiting for someone who knows the way home.

If our lives ever touch again, I want to hold your hand.

And discover that, after all this time, my heart was never wrong to keep searching for you.