There is a specific kind of grief in getting exactly what you asked for when you didn't actually want it. I told you not to send letters. I told you to let me go. But on our one-year anniversary, the silence was a physical weight.
I’m heartbroken not because you failed to follow instructions, but because you didn't love me enough to ignore them. I missed your touch, your voice, and your words today.
Yet, as much as it hurts to be apart, I know we did the right thing by walking away. I have to remind myself that the version of "us" I’m mourning isn't the one that actually existed. On days like today, I find myself grieving a ghost—imagining what we could have been if things were different, or who you could have been if you hadn't chosen to hurt me.
But then the reality sets in. I remember the weight of your words when they turned cruel and the fear of your touch when it turned to' force. I remember that the relationship wasn't healthy, and that "staying" was costing me my safety and my soul.
I am sad for the potential we lost, but I am choosing the truth over the fantasy. I’m reminding myself that I’d rather be heartbroken and safe than loved and afraid.
does anyone else find anniversaries or milestones or special occasions hard?
Last updated on:2026-04-03T17:58:03+05:30
Comments (3)
umm do you feel like part of you still wants that version of them who never hurt you, even though you know that version wasn’t real?
had to keep reminding myself what it actually felt like being with them, not just the good parts i missed.
saying “leave me alone” but secretly hoping shed break that rule just once because it would mean they still cared. that silence on big days hits in a different way, like it proves something you didn’t want to know