Dear Clark,
It has been one month. One whole month since you blocked me on Instagram, erased yourself from our shared playlist on Spotify, and unfollowed and removed me from TikTok. One month since you shut the doors of your world to me, and yet to me it feels like yesterday. My heart still remembers that sting, that moment of erasure, that silence that has not lifted since. One month sounds like a small stretch of time, but for me, it has been endless nights of missing you, endless mornings of wishing for your presence, endless hours of aching to hear your voice again.
Today is heavy, Clark. Heavier than the other days. Maybe because my body feels frailer, or maybe because the weight of your absence has deepened. I am still confined here in the hospital. Last night, my blood pressure dropped so low that the nurses rushed in, panic in their eyes, the machines beeping wildly. My chest tightened, my heart beat so fast it felt like it wanted to escape from me, and for a moment I thought I might not make it through the night. Palpitations, they said. But to me, it felt like drowning while still breathing.
This morning, the doctor ordered another full biopsy. They saw the bruises sprouting across my arms and legs, bruises I cannot explain, bruises that look like shadows on my skin. I see them and feel the truth of how fragile I have become. I am tired, Clark. I will be honest with you: I would rather die than go through another round of treatment. I am not afraid of dying.
And yet, in the middle of all this, I miss you the most. If you were here, I imagine you sitting by my side, holding my hand through the palpitations, whispering that I am safe, reminding me to breathe. If you were here, maybe the thought of enduring treatment again wouldn't terrify me so much, because I'd know I had you to hold on to. I miss that version of my life, the one where you were still mine, where we faced every storm together.
Do you remember how we used to fall asleep on calls? Goodnight at 10:30 PM, our soft voices slowly fading into slumber. Do you remember Phineas, our first little "baby"? That silly plush toy that meant the world because it was ours? Do you remember the comfort of just existing together, even in silence, knowing that no matter what, we had each other? I carry all those memories with me.
Clark, I dreamt of you not long ago. In my dream, you were lying down, and I was sitting close. We kissed, gentle and tender, before the scene dissolved into nothingness. I woke up with tears in my eyes. It felt so real, so warm, but then the emptiness reminded me that it was only a dream. How cruel that even in my sleep, I cannot escape you.
One month without you feels unbearable, but what choice do I have? You closed the doors. You erased the paths back to you. And I, foolishly or faithfully, still find myself standing outside, holding my love in my hands, hoping you will remember me one day. I know you had your reasons, and I know I hurt you in ways I cannot undo, but my heart still loves you with the same intensity as before. Maybe even more.
I wonder if you think of me at all. Do you ever remember the sound of my laughter, the weight of my voice at night, the way I loved you without holding anything back? Or have you erased me completely, as though I was just a chapter you needed to close? The truth is, I don't know. And maybe I never will.
Clark, I don't know how many more months it will take for this ache to fade, or if it ever will. I don't know if I'll ever reach a day when I can say your name without feeling my chest tighten. But today, all I know is this: I still miss you. Even when I tell myself I should stop. Even when I try to accept that it's over. My heart refuses to let go.
Maybe one day you'll understand how much I loved you, how much I still love you, how even in the face of sickness and fragility, my greatest longing is not for healing but for you. I don't know what the future holds for me. But if there is one thing I am sure of, it is this: you were the best part of my life. The one I will always carry with me, no matter where life takes me.
So tonight, as I lie here in this hospital bed with monitors beeping softly in the background, I'll whisper the same goodnight I used to give you. Maybe somewhere, you'll feel it in the quiet of your own night.
Always,
Alyssa (Phineas, Arlo, Fifi, and Mang)
Last updated on:2025-08-24T16:19:03+05:30
Comments (2)
me think of when i was sick and my ex wasn’t there. i kept wishing for his hand, his voice, just someone to make it less scary. i felt small and fragile too. i get why you’d rather have them than face it alone.
i hate how he get to just erase you like that. block you, delete stuff, move on while you’re sitting in a hospital bed remembering every tiny thing. i went through the same, it made me so bitter, like my love was disposable.