Letting Go

The days after her coffee with Ericson passed quietly, almost too quietly. Yura had expected the meeting to stir up more emotions—perhaps some grand realization, or a sense of closure. But instead, it left her feeling strangely empty, as if the meeting had closed a door she didn’t even realize was still open.

She tried to shake off the feeling, telling herself that it was for the best. They had been a part of each other’s past, and maybe that was where they belonged now. Life had moved on, and so had they.

But there were still moments when she found herself staring out the window, her mind drifting back to the days when everything had felt so certain. Those days when Ericson had been her world, when she had believed that love was something that could last forever.

One evening, as Yura sat in her small apartment, scrolling through her phone, a message popped up from an unexpected source. It was from a mutual friend from high school—Sophia.

Sophia: Hey, I saw Ericson the other day. He mentioned you two met up. How did it go?

Yura’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment. She hadn’t talked to Sophia in months, but the curiosity in her message made Yura pause. She hadn’t really shared much about her meeting with Ericson, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Yura: It was... okay. We caught up, but it felt like we were just talking about the past. It was nice, but weird at the same time.

Sophia responded quickly.

Sophia: I get that. I think he’s been thinking a lot about the past lately. He’s not the same person he was back then, but I guess none of us are.

Yura stared at the words for a moment. "Not the same person..." She couldn’t help but feel the weight of that statement. Ericson had changed, but so had she. They had both outgrown each other in ways that were hard to admit, and harder still to accept.

The next few days felt like a blur of routine—work, errands, and moments of quiet reflection that she hadn’t invited, but couldn’t escape. Yura started running again, something she hadn’t done since high school. She used to run with Ericson by her side, their footsteps in sync as they talked about everything and nothing. It was her way of clearing her mind, of pushing the memories into a place where they wouldn’t hurt so much. But even as she ran, she couldn’t escape the weight of her thoughts.

One evening, while she was out for a jog, she passed by a park they used to visit together. The sight of the familiar swings, the old oak tree where they had carved their initials, stopped her in her tracks. Her chest tightened as she looked at the spot, remembering the hours they had spent there, talking and laughing like nothing could ever tear them apart.

Yura stood there for a moment, letting the breeze hit her face. She could still feel Ericson’s presence, his voice echoing in her mind. But the sharp pang in her chest told her that the boy she had known was no longer there. And perhaps, she realized, that was okay.

With a deep breath, she turned away, her feet carrying her back onto the path. The past was important, yes, but it was just that—the past. She didn’t need to keep holding on to something that had already slipped away.

That night, after she showered and settled into bed, Yura picked up her phone and stared at the last message from Ericson. It was still sitting there, unopened.

Ericson: Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation the other day. I guess I just wanted to say... thanks for everything. I hope you’re doing okay. Take care.

She didn’t need to reply, not really. The words were nice, but they felt final. As if Ericson had reached the same conclusion she had—that some things were better left in the past.

With a deep breath, Yura put her phone down on the nightstand. She turned off the light, letting the darkness envelop her. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of peace settle over her. The weight of the past didn’t feel as heavy anymore.

In the quiet of her room, Yura realized something important: letting go didn’t mean forgetting. It meant accepting that sometimes, love was a beautiful chapter that didn’t have to last forever to be meaningful.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

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