To the ones I haven't spoken to in a while
For years, I’ve gone back and forth on whether I should reach out and ask for a proper conversation. I’ve always been the kind of person who believes in talking things through—call it confrontational if you want, but never in a negative sense. I simply find it hard to sit with the thought that my actions may have been misunderstood by people who matter to me.
Because I know you, I chose to reach out in quiet, careful ways—ways that wouldn’t make you feel cornered or pressured. I did that for a long time, telling myself that maybe you just needed space, time to sort things out on your own.
But I’ve come to realize that sometimes, people choose distance not because they need time, but because it’s easier to walk away when things become difficult.
And so, I let you.
I stopped chasing, stopped trying to close a door that you had already chosen to leave open behind you. Not because I didn’t care, but because I finally understood that some silences are answers in themselves.
Even if, at times, it meant feeling misunderstood, or quietly carrying emotions that were hard to explain. It became heavy in ways I can no longer ignore, and I’ve come to accept that not everything I give will be seen or understood—and that’s okay.
I’m choosing now to let go of the need to be appreciated or validated in places where it no longer feels returned. I wish you well, sincerely, and I hope life meets you with the kindness you deserve.
But I also understand that some chapters are meant to stay closed, and this is me gently choosing not to reopen them.
