#certifiedcertified

[tomoig]

The city was alive, bustling with the sounds of footsteps, conversations, and the distant hum of cars, but for her, it always felt a little quieter. Everywhere she went, memories of him followed, woven into the fabric of her days. Whether it was the melodies playing through her headphones, the smell of spices wafting from her kitchen, or the rhythmic cadence of her shoes against the pavement, he was there. Every turn of a corner seemed to summon the echoes of their laughter, their shared moments painted vividly in her mind.

Passing by the park always made her smile, even as her chest tightened. She couldn’t help but giggle, recalling their playful antics—the silly jokes, the warmth of his hand in hers. The memory of a video she once took on his phone tugged at her heart. How she wished she could watch it now, hear their laughter again. But the ache of missing him wasn’t fleeting; it lingered, sharp and persistent, amplified by every small joy or absurdity she wished she could share with him.

Yet, the heaviness of it all gnawed at her. She shook her head, frustrated with herself. “This is so stupid,” she muttered, though deep down, she knew it wasn’t. These feelings weren’t born from nothing; they came from something real, something meaningful. And he wasn’t just a boy—he was him.

She wrestled with the complexity of her emotions, torn between acceptance and longing. Missing him, she reminded herself, was okay. But the pain of missing him was its own beast, unrelenting and raw. She had genuinely believed there was more to their story, that their paths were meant to intertwine longer. Maybe, she thought, they were simply lessons for one another, meant to grow apart rather than together.

Still, she refused to cling to illusions. Their last conversation was clear, untainted by desperation or false hope. She valued honesty, even when it hurt. “I won’t distort what we had,” she resolved. “I’ll honor the truth of it.” She was healing, working on herself, and though her heart remained open, she didn’t carry regrets.

The love she held for him wasn’t in the past—it wasn’t “loved,” but “love.” The future was a mystery, and she held onto the belief that perhaps the universe had its own plans for them. In the meantime, she let herself feel everything. Disappointment, yes, but also joy in the memories. Each day, she allowed herself to heal a little more, recognizing her worth and prioritizing her own happiness.

There were stings, of course. Seeing his friends brought bittersweet encounters. They would tease her, oblivious to the shift in their story. “Where’s ....... ? Not on a date today?” they’d ask with a knowing grin. She hadn’t told her friends about their breakup yet, and it seemed he hadn’t either. The fact that they ended on good terms made it both easier and harder. There was no anger to fall back on, no harsh words to replay—just a tender ache for what was.

She chose to embrace her feelings rather than bury them. Her emotions were valid, and she gave herself grace to process them all. When she thought of him—whether through a song he’d shared or a memory that crept into her day—it wasn’t bitterness that lingered but a quiet happiness.

Sometimes, he appeared in her mind without warning. On some days, it made her wince. On others, it felt like a gentle nudge from the universe. She remembered his words, how he told her to find someone better. At the time, it had stung, like her feelings hadn’t reached him fully. But as the weeks passed, she realized she didn’t need to prove her worth to him—or anyone.

If he found happiness with someone else, she knew she would hurt, but she would also be happy for him. That’s just who she was. His joy, in some way, would always ripple into hers. Would it make her cry and scream and curse the stars? Yes, probably. But that was okay, too. Her love for him was deep, rooted in both care for him and a growing love for herself.

And so, she continued. She missed him, yes, and she loved him. But she also loved herself. If their goodbye truly was a “see you later,” she would face that moment with a smile. For now, she giggled at their silly memories, let herself heal, and trusted that whatever came next, she would be ready.

“I love you,” she whispered into the quiet. “I miss you. And I’ll wait for you, even if it’s only in my heart.”