Many days have passed. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. But some feelings don’t understand time. They stay, even when everything else moves on.
Once, my favorite person slowly became just another Instagram user. I watched silently as the world judged her—how easily people scold girls, how quickly they use harsh words, how casually they move on.
This generation talks about loyalty, yet practices forgetting.
Still, for me, she was never just a username. She was the one.
When I told her, “It’s you or no one,” I didn’t say it for drama. I said it because my heart knew no replacement.
People say loyalty doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe it does—but quietly. Maybe it lives in people who don’t shout, who don’t show, who don’t move on easily.
Many days, many months have gone by. She still lives in my heart. Still occupies my thoughts.
I don’t believe God exists behind every temple door. I prayed for her in every moment I could, in every silence, in every hope.
If God truly listened, maybe some stories wouldn’t end halfway. Maybe faith isn’t about temples or rituals—maybe it’s about loving someone without expecting anything in return.
Sometimes, when I see her photo, my hands start shaking. My heartbeat suddenly becomes loud. I don’t understand what breaks inside me at that moment.
Is it love?
Is it loss?
Or is it the memory of someone who once felt like home?
I don’t wish for her return anymore. I only wish for her happiness—wherever she is, whoever she becomes.
Loving someone doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means stepping back, staying silent, and still wishing them well.
I have heard that forgiveness is easy. If that is true, then let this be mine.
If I ever made a mistake—knowingly or unknowingly—I am sorry.
Some people leave our lives, but they never truly leave us. They stay in our silence, in our prayers, in the way our heart still remembers their name.
Maybe that’s what love really is.