absence

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March 23rd, 2026.

It’s 6:40 PM.

But earlier today… you came up to me.

And it was strange, because for a second it felt normal.

Like nothing had happened.

Like we were still us.

But we weren’t.

You were just there to give my ring back.

You looked at me for a second — and it was quick, but not empty.

And you said, holding it delicately between your fingers:

“Look…”

That was it.

I took the ring from your hand…

and I froze.

My world stopped in that exact moment.

Like everything went silent, except for what I was feeling.

I wish I had said something.

Anything.

But I didn’t.

You handed it to me…

and you left.

Just like that.

And now it keeps replaying in my head, like I could go back to that moment and do it differently.

Because I should have pulled you back.

I should have stopped you.

I should have said it.

That I miss you.

So much.

That I think about you in everything I do.

In every song.

In every place.

In every small, stupid detail of my day.

That I still love you.

But…

I didn’t do anything.

I let you go.

And maybe that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Now, I really am letting you go.

For real.

It hurts. A lot.

In a way I can’t fully explain.

But staying with you hurts even more.

And that’s the worst part.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be loving someone and still not being able to stay.

Unfortunately, the only thing more impossible than leaving…

is staying.

Even if I love you.

Even if you (maybe) love me.

We can’t.

Not now.

And maybe never.

And I hate that “maybe.”

But… it’s okay.

Or at least, it has to be.

I’m sad. Really sad.

In a way that looks calm on the outside but is completely messy on the inside.

Because now I know…

I don’t have anything that’s truly yours anymore.

Nothing you touched that stayed with me.

Nothing that still belongs to you in any way.

Just a few things in a memory box.

Things that remind me of you.

Things I don’t know if I keep because I love you…

or because I still don’t know how to let go completely.

(Unfortunately, I still haven’t managed to fit the world inside that small shoebox.)

But nothing that was really yours.

And that hurts more than I thought it would.

Because it feels like now you have no reason to come back.

And maybe you never did.

I don’t know if I want you to still have my letters.

Part of me wants you to keep them.

To read them again.

To remember.

But another part…

would rather you had thrown them away.

Like that would make it easier.

Like that would finally end things.

God, Júlia…

life was so cruel to us.

But you were too.

And I tried to understand.

I really did.

But some things hurt in a way that can’t be justified.

“But if it hurts, I get attached…”

I think that’s the sentence that defines me when it comes to you.

I stayed.

Even when it hurt.

Even when I already knew.

And maybe that was my mistake.

Or maybe it was just too much love in the wrong place.

It’s never been this hard to forget someone.

Because it’s not just about forgetting you.

It’s about forgetting everything I felt when I was with you.

And that…

that’s what weighs the most.

But I still love you, Bee.

And even so…

I don’t like you anymore.

And I think that’s the most honest thing I can say.

Valid note (because yes, and this text is mine):

you’re becoming more impossibly beautiful every day.

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Perhaps in the end, being a good person, with a good heart, means wanting someone to be well, even if they have hurt you.

Even if you don't understand the reason, and maybe you don't even have one.

But it's about caring for and about those who don't care about you.

Maybe it's petting a stray dog, even knowing it's dirty.

Maybe it's helping an elderly person cross the street.

Or paying for lunch for someone who doesn't have the money for it.

It's about doing and wanting good for those whom everyone thinks don't matter.

Or those whom everyone thinks you shouldn't care about.

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Every now and then I find myself thinking about you again.

Unfortunately, my dreams about you still persist.

I don't understand why I don't miss you anymore, and yet you still roam my dreams.

It's as if consciously I don't love you anymore, but when I drift off, my subconscious insists on putting you in my dreams, just to see if you still affect me.

Why can't you get out of my head?

Go away now, and never come back!

Please never speak to me, or about me.

I will never again allow myself to love as I loved you.

Foolishness, my innocence.

Your stupidity, for sending me away.

Now you see you've lost me.

Thanks to the wisdom I've gained, you'll never have me again.

You taught me that the books that will make you cry the most are behind the prettiest covers.

You were that book, lucky for me to learn from you, just when the library return deadline was over. I returned you to the shelf of life.

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It's so good...

It's so comfortable to finally not feel anything for you anymore.

It's so good to see you and not mean anything anymore.

It doesn't hurt anymore.

It doesn't bring nostalgia anymore.

It doesn't make me miss you.

It doesn't make me feel anger or disgust.

Just... Nothing.

Today I see you and I think... Someday in my past you were the one who made me question my own self-sufficiency, and now I know that the one who wasn't enough was you. You didn't have enough love to love me. You are totally unstable, you're here today and not tomorrow. But I realized it, I freed myself from that feeling, I suffered a lot because of it. But I'm here. Whole. Complete. And with my head held high.

It's so comforting to know that you've lost me completely. It's so incredible to know that one day you were my everything, and now you're nothing more than a vague memory.

I loved you so much. So much that I drowned. Alone, because only I loved. Your greatest love was liking a lot, I wasn't made to love someone who only likes a lot. I was made to love intensely, with daily declarations and letters and long, warm hugs.

Today, yes, today I recognize that everything is okay. I finally recognize that none of this was my fault. And that's good, you know.

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Do you know when there are one, two people completely willing to give you the world?

Do you know when you really want that world?

But the worst part is: do you know when you can’t like the person who’s offering it?

I live with this every day. I know there’s a boy and a girl who love me the way I once loved someone who didn’t value me. Who love intensely, exactly the way I always dreamed of.

But I simply can’t like them.

They’re so perfect for me… so why don’t they offer this love to someone who can give it back?

Why me?

A girl in love with someone who doesn’t care about me anymore?

Why me, the girl full of family problems?

The girl who will disappoint her parents because she doesn’t want to be what they want her to be?

Why me, so rebellious and, at the same time, so gentle and caring?

Please, don’t do this to yourselves.

I can’t give you what you expect from me.

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parte 06

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Tenho raiva de como você me deixa. De como eu chego depois da escola.

Tenho raiva de pensar que talvez você ainda goste de mim, mas que o seu orgulho não me deixa ser feliz.

Ser feliz… eu sou.

Mas eu era mais quando estava com você, mesmo com todos os problemas.

Eu sei da sua família. Sei que ela é complicada, mesmo fingindo não ser. Sei que você achava que eles nunca te aceitariam. Eu também achava isso.

Por mim, a gente ficava juntas mesmo às escondidas. Um foda-se enorme pra o que todo mundo pensa. A gente nem precisava se assumir. Eu realmente não ligo pra isso.

Eu não ligo se você é complicada. Naquela época, eu faria de tudo pra resolver.

E ok… provavelmente eu nunca vou ter a chance de te dizer isso. Tudo bem. Como eu sempre digo, eu aguento.

Antes, eu te amava e sentia só amor.

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parte 05

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Eu também te olho. E não vejo problema nenhum em deixar você saber disso.

Eu não ligo se vai “dar muito na cara”. Eu simplesmente não ligo.

Não tenho medo de sentir, nem de mostrar. Muita gente já me decepcionou até eu decidir parar de esconder o que sinto. E essas decepções não me impediram. Nunca vão.

Eu odeio guardar tudo pra mim. Tudo que se guarda, uma hora, deixa de caber. E explode.

Já vi pessoas explodindo emoções na minha frente:

Raiva, rancor, tristeza, amor, ansiedade.

Já vi você afundada nos próprios pensamentos, chorando, como a criatura mais frágil do mundo.

Quando vi isso, tive certeza de que não devia guardar o que eu sentia por você.

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parte 04

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Você sempre vai existir em mim de alguma forma, mas com o tempo isso vai esfriar. Até morrer. Como alguém se afogando: quanto mais tempo passa debaixo d’água, mais a visão fica turva e o silêncio toma conta.

Eu não fico triste por isso. Fico só meio decepcionada por não ter sido tão recíproco quanto eu achei que fosse ser. E ok. Eu vou superar. Eu sempre supero. No fim, sou eu e meus sentimentos contra o mundo. E eu vou ficar bem.

Mas deixa eu perguntar uma coisa:

Se você não gosta mais de mim, por que fica observando cada passo que eu dou quando eu não tô vendo?

Por que você me olha como se quisesse me dar o mundo?

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parte 03

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Você me deu o “necessário” pra ficar… até cansar. Ou até não me aguentar mais.

Mesmo assim, eu fiquei. Mesmo sofrendo. Mesmo com toda a dor da sua ausência. E tá tudo bem.

Eu não me arrependo. Nunca vou me arrepender. Eu sempre digo:

“Por mais que não dure pra sempre, seja grato, porque no pouco que durou, você foi feliz.”

Você me fez muito feliz por um tempo, e eu sou grata por isso.

E eu sei que, em algum momento, eu vou ter te superado de verdade. Não vou te esquecer, mas vou estar em paz. Ou talvez o sentimento ainda esteja aqui… não sei.

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parte 02

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Que saco pensar que pode ter sido tudo em vão.

Tenho raiva, mas não é de você. É do fato de você mexer comigo. De você me olhar e me desmontar. De você andar e ser, simplesmente, a coisa mais deslumbrante que eu já vi.

E, apesar de tudo, eu ainda te amo como se você ainda estivesse aqui.

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parte 01

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Tenho muita raiva do orgulho, da desconfiança, da falta de certeza.

O que mais me deu raiva foi quando você falou pro __ que o motivo do término tinha sido só porque você “não queria mais”. Eu sei que isso é mentira. Eu sei que não foi só isso.

Eu sei que sou um pouco egoísta, até infantil. Mas me recuso a acreditar que só eu fui feliz. O tanto que eu sofri com isso… o tanto que eu chorei por causa da porra de uma abelha.

Por que em algum dia, você me condenou dizendo: "ninguém lembra de mim quando vê abelhas". Ótimo, agora eu lembro.

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Aprendi a ficar em silêncio

antes de aprender a falar.

Algumas coisas não cabiam na minha boca,

então viraram frases.

Isso não é uma confissão.