Will I ever let you go?

Learning to Live With What We Can't Forget

it feels like every inch of my life is still haunted by you. even after all this time, i find pieces of you in the most unexpected places in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, in the small corner of the room where we used to sit together, in the moments when the world goes still and i swear i can hear your voice. it’s like you never left, like you’re still here somewhere, lingering in the air i breathe.

i keep asking myself, will i ever let you go? but the question itself feels like a lie. because letting go means detaching, means cutting ties, means saying goodbye without looking back. and i can’t do that. i can’t pretend that i don’t feel you, that your absence hasn’t become a part of me. i can’t pretend i don’t hear your laugh echoing in my mind or feel the warmth of your hand in mine like it was yesterday.

it’s strange, isn’t it? how love doesn’t really leave. it doesn’t fade into the background like we expect it to. it lingers, taking root in places you never even noticed before in the quiet hum of a late-night street, in the melody of a song you used to play on repeat, in the way your body instinctively reaches for someone who isn’t there anymore. i keep thinking about how love isn’t just an emotion. it’s a feeling that wraps itself around your bones, around your blood, around your soul. it becomes a part of you, something you can’t wash away, something you can’t forget, no matter how hard you try.

i remember the way you looked at me when you thought i wasn’t paying attention like you could see straight through me. like you understood the parts of me i never let anyone see. i remember the way your eyes would light up when you laughed, the way your voice would soften when you spoke my name. every little detail, every quiet gesture they’re still burned into my memory, like photographs i can’t tear out of my mind.

sometimes, when i’m alone, i catch myself smiling at the memory of you. but it’s not a happy smile. it’s bittersweet. it’s the kind of smile that comes when you realize how much you miss someone, when you understand that there’s a piece of your heart that’s always going to belong to them, no matter what.

i wonder if you think about me the same way. i wonder if you miss the little things the way i’d curl up next to you when we watched movies, the way i’d steal the last piece of your pizza, the way we’d talk about nothing and everything all at once. i wonder if you ever catch yourself remembering my name in passing, or if my face ever crosses your mind like mine crosses yours.

i’ve tried to move on. lord knows i have. i’ve tried to fill the empty spaces with new people, new experiences, new distractions. but none of it feels real. none of it feels like home. every time i let myself get close to someone else, i end up thinking about you. every time someone says something that reminds me of you, my heart stumbles for a second, like it forgot how to beat without you in the picture.

and that’s the cruelest part of love, isn’t it? it teaches you how to give without holding back, how to trust without hesitation, how to lose yourself in someone else and then when it’s over, when they’re gone, it leaves you with nothing but pieces of yourself scattered all over the place.

there are days when i think i’ve let you go. when i wake up and don’t feel the ache for the first time in what feels like forever. but then i hear a song we used to listen to, or i see a place we once visited, or i smell the scent of something that reminds me of you and just like that, the ache returns. it hits me harder than it ever did before. it reminds me that even though you’re not here, you’re still everywhere.

so, will i ever let you go?
maybe the truth is, i don’t want to. maybe letting go isn’t about forgetting. maybe it’s about learning to live with the pieces of you that are still here, still wrapped up in my soul, still tucked into the corners of my heart.

letting go is not about erasing the love, about pretending it never existed. it’s about learning how to hold on to it without it breaking you. it’s about finding a way to keep someone close without needing them in the same way. it’s about understanding that some loves are meant to stay as echoes faint, but still there. still shaping who we are, still reminding us of what it felt like to be loved so deeply, so fully, that it changed us forever.

i think that’s what love does, doesn’t it? it changes you. it makes you more than you were. it makes you bigger, wider, deeper than you ever thought you could be. and even when it leaves, even when it walks away, it leaves its mark. it leaves a scar that you wear like a badge of honor, like a reminder that you lived, that you felt, that you loved and were loved.

so maybe i’ll never truly let you go.
maybe i’ll never stop hearing your laugh in my mind, never stop feeling the warmth of your touch on my skin, never stop seeing your face in the crowd of people who pass me by. maybe that’s just the way it is.

but even if you’re gone, even if you’ve moved on, even if you’ve forgotten, i’ll carry you with me.
because some people are meant to live inside of us, not as a burden, but as a beautiful reminder of the life we once shared.
and maybe, in the end, that’s enough.
maybe that’s what love is a thing you never truly let go of.