We were never the kind of love that had a place to sit beside itself. No shared city, no shared skies, just two hearts learning to breathe through screens.
You lived in my “good morning” texts, in my late-night voice notes when the world felt too heavy and I just wanted you to understand me. And you did. God, you did.
You understood the parts of me I didn’t know how to explain—the soft rage, the quiet tears, the brave smile I wore for everyone else.
We built a home out of timings and signals, out of “I miss you” and “I’m trying.”
But distance is a strange villain—it doesn’t scream. It just slowly takes what you were holding until your hands forget what warmth feels like.
We didn’t fall apart loudly. We broke in the smallest ways—a call that didn’t happen, a reply that came too late, a “I’m tired” that wasn’t about sleep.
And one day, we stopped calling it love because love started hurting more than it was healing.
I can’t hate you. I never learned how.
Because even after everything, you’re still the safest name in my mind.
Now we stand in this new place—not lovers, not strangers, just two souls trying to keep the good parts alive.
We laugh sometimes, like nothing ever happened, like my heart didn’t once choose you in every lifetime it could imagine.
And I pretend I’m okay because I don’t want to lose you twice.
But some nights… some nights I remember how I used to belong to you without ever touching you.
How I loved you through oceans, through silence, through the cruel patience of waiting.
And even now, when you say “take care,” it feels like a soft kiss gently placed on the wound.
Maybe this is what we are now—a love that didn’t survive but a friendship that refused to die.
Two hearts that couldn’t stay together… but still couldn’t walk away.
So here I am, still wishing you happiness, still proud of you from afar, still holding you gently like a memory I don’t want to ruin.
Because you weren’t just my girlfriend. You were my favourite person.
And even broken, even distant, even changed—I’m grateful we still remain…