“Is It Wrong That I Still Miss You?”

I have been happy before. I have known the sweetness of loving someone deeply and being loved in return. I have known the warmth of someone who made ordinary days beautiful. Until one day… everything changed. Somewhere between time, distance, choices, and circumstances, the life I once knew became a memory. And so did he. There was someone I once loved—someone who cared for me in ways I still remember. Someone who reminded me to pray, take care of myself, and made me feel that I mattered. But he chose someone else. So I stopped waiting. I let him go… or at least, I learned how to look like I did. Because the truth is… I still miss him. Even after all these years. Sometimes I wonder if he ever remembers me. If a song, a place, a quiet night, or a familiar feeling ever brings my name back to him. I secretly hope he reads these words one day. Not because I want him back. Not because I want to disturb the life he chose. I only want to know that somewhere in the quiet corners of his memory, I still exist. To miss someone you can no longer reach. To love someone you have no right to ask for. To wonder about a path life never allowed us to take. So, Dear World… Is it wrong that I still miss him? Maybe I am not waiting for him anymore. Maybe I am only waiting for the version of myself who stops looking back. I have learned that a woman can have love, family, responsibilities, and reasons to be grateful—and still carry a silent room in her heart where an old name remains untouched. I don’t hate him for choosing someone else. I don’t blame him for moving forward. I only wish… that somewhere in this vast world, he remembers there was once a woman who loved him quietly. A woman who still wishes him well from afar. A woman who never truly forgot— she learned to keep the memory where nobody could see it. Perhaps that is what my silence has always been. Not emptiness. Just a heart full of words… with no one left to say them to. — SilentVeloura —