sometimes the worst thing you can do is open old chats.
because suddenly you’re face to face with a version of someone who loved you loudly. the way they cared, the way they pampered you, the way they made you feel like you were their entire world for a while.
and you sit there scrolling, realizing how time quietly steals everything.
those little moments. those silly messages. those late-night conversations that once felt endless.
they don’t disappear all at once. they just… slip away.
i miss them. a lot. more than i’d ever admit out loud.
but the person who exists now isn’t the same person from those messages. and maybe i’m not the same person either.
we still talk sometimes, but it feels like standing on opposite sides of a river that used to be a bridge. too many things happened. too many things hurt.
and now there’s someone else in his life. she seems perfect. better than me, at least in my head.
so i’m sitting here holding memories that feel warm and painful at the same time, wondering how something that once felt so real can slowly become something you’re supposed to let go of.
maybe that’s what growing up is. learning that some flames were only meant to light a part of your life, not the whole story.
and even if it hurts like hell, sometimes loving someone also means letting the memory stay where it belongs — in the past.
