Dear Clark,
Today, I said goodbye to my family and friends. They hugged me tightly, told me to take care, and reminded me that I am loved. Their goodbyes felt both heavy and comforting. But there was one goodbye missing: yours. And Clark, that's the one I wanted the most.
I know we ended in silence. I know I've made mistakes, and maybe I lost the right to hear your voice, to feel your presence. But Clark, that doesn't erase the love I still carry for you. And tonight, as tears fell freely from my eyes, you were the name I whispered in my heart.
I don't know if you'll ever read this. Maybe you won't but that's okay. Because these words aren't about whether you accept them. They're about me releasing them.
Releasing you.
Clark, I once dreamed of forever with you. I dreamed of building a home, of laughter in the kitchen, of quiet nights where you'd hold me close. But tonight, I am faced with the truth that those dreams belong to a different time, a different version of us. And I can't keep living in that version anymore.
This goodbye isn't just about leaving home. It's about leaving the hope that someday we might go back to what we were. It's about letting go of the "maybe one day" I held onto so tightly. It hurts, God, it hurts but I know I have to. Because I can't heal while clutching the ghost of us.
Please know, Clark, that I loved you with everything I had. And if love alone was enough to keep us, we would still be together. But life, pain, choices, and circumstances pulled us apart. And so I'm choosing today to let you go not because I stopped loving you, but because I need to love myself again.
I will always carry you with me, Clark. In every quiet morning, in every song that reminds me of you, in every small moment where love feels like both a gift and a wound. You were my safe place, my joy, my comfort. And even if we don't find our way back to each other, you will always be the man who taught me the meaning of deep, unconditional love.
So this is my final goodbye. I won't send this to you now, not yet. But someday, when I'm ready, I will. And whether you read it or not, whether it touches you or not, I'll know that I finally set my heart free.
Goodbye, my love. My baby. Our tatay. Thank you for everything.
Always,
Alyssa (Phineas, Arlo, Fifi, and Mang)
Last updated on:2025-09-01T02:09:02+05:30
Comments (3)
it sounds like the goodbye was more for yourself than for clark. you’re closing a door you kept cracked open. i remember when i did that, it didn’t fix everything but it changed how i saw my own feelings.
i once wrote a goodbye letter too. it wasn’t about him reading it, it was about me needing to say it out loud somewhere. the love didn’t disappear, it just shifted into something i carried quietly after.
i wrote stuff like this too. long messages in my notes app, crying while typing, never sending them. i hated that i still wanted him to hear it. it felt pathetic and i kept rereading my own words like it would change something.