A Tide of Feeling

Sometimes the hardest part isn't forgetting someone. It's forgiving yourself for believing in a promise that was never real.

Sometimes a heart is strong not because it has never fallen, but because it has known pain and still finds a way to smile.

That night, I sat on the edge of my bed.

The bedroom light was dim, just bright enough to see my reflection in the mirror.

I stared at that face for a long time.

Sometimes it felt like looking at someone I once knew, someone who had somehow disappeared along the way.

“Is this really the woman who once ran through the rain to comfort someone who didn't even care?”

I asked myself.

The mirror said nothing.



But I knew the answer.

Yes… that woman was me.

A cup of coffee sat cold on the table.

Just like those old feelings.

Sweet at first.

Bitter with time.

Stale in the end.

He said I was too sensitive.

I said he was too good at lying.

He ignored me.

I ignored him.

In the end, we were both exhausted.

We both lost.

His shadow still ran circles through my head.

I tried to chase it away, but the harder I tried, the wilder it danced.

I even wondered if Temu sold memory-repellent spray. If it did, I'd have checked out three bottles already.

Good thing it doesn't.

Otherwise, I might have disappeared along with the memories.

As time passed, I began to understand that memories weren't the enemy.

They were simply teachers that arrived disguised as pain.

Every wound taught me the difference between love and habit.

Between affection and addiction.

That night, I stepped out onto the balcony.

The wind was fierce, but I stood my ground.

I looked up at the sky, not because I was trying to stage some dramatic scene, but because I wanted to feel free, if only for a moment.

I whispered to myself.

“If I could survive being hurt back then, I can learn to be happy now.”

A tear fell, but this time it wasn't because I missed him.

It was relief.

Relief that I was finally no longer waiting for someone who would never return.

I looked into the mirror again.

Hair a mess.

Eyes swollen.

But I was smiling.

“Eh, I actually look pretty good now that I've moved on.”

I laughed softly as I wiped away my tears.

The storm in my chest was still there, but it felt different now.

It no longer burned for him.

It burned for me… the woman who had finally learned to love herself.