It started so innocently. Just a glance here, a smile there. I didn’t even realize when my heart began to race every time he was near. And by the time I understood what was happening, it was already too late.
He wasn’t just kind. He was everything. The way he laughed, the way he talked about the things he loved, the way he seemed to make every room he entered a little brighter. I fell for him, hard and fast.
But the universe is cruel, doesn’t it? Because he wasn’t mine to love.
I see them together every day—him and her. She’s perfect for him. They fit together like they were made for each other, like the kind of love you read about in stories. He looks at her the way I wish he’d look at me. And it’s not her fault. She doesn’t even know.
I try to be happy for them, but every smile feels like a lie. Every laugh I force feels like a weight pressing on my chest. I tell myself that my feelings don’t matter, that they’re selfish and foolish, but they still burn.
There are days when I think I’m fine, that I’ve moved on. But then I see him again, and it’s like the world stops turning. My heart aches for something it can never have, and I’m reminded all over again of how small and helpless love can make you feel.
Today, I decided it’s time to let go. I can’t keep doing this to myself, hoping for something that will never happen. As I watch him laugh with her one last time, I feel tears sting my eyes. I turn away before anyone can see, clutching my chest like it might stop my heart from shattering into pieces.
Walking away feels like tearing a part of myself apart. But I know I have to leave this behind, for my own sake. Some love stories aren’t meant to be written, no matter how deeply you feel them.
As the tears fall freely now, I whisper to myself, “Goodbye.” Not to him. But to the version of me that thought we might have had a chance.
And with that, I walk away, leaving a piece of my heart behind with him.
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