And yet I cannot hate our story
Babe, if love were easy, maybe our story would have been lighter—less tears, less silence, less waiting for words that never came.
But ours was never easy. It was fire and rain. Soft kisses and hard lessons. Joy that filled me, and pain that hollowed me out.
There were days you felt like home—your voice calming storms I never spoke about. And then there were days when love turned heavy, and silence said more than words ever could.
We hurt each other, not always on purpose, but because two wounded hearts don’t always know how to love gently.
Still, I stayed, because between the cracks, something real lived there. You knew parts of me I never showed the world.
It wasn’t perfect. We broke, we returned, we broke again—an endless dance between love and pain.
And yet I cannot hate our story.
You taught me deep love, and deeper strength. You taught me that love can heal and hurt in the same breath.
Maybe we were right person, wrong timing. Or maybe we were never meant to last—only to change each other forever.
And even now, a part of me remembers everything.
Because some loves don’t stay forever… they stay within you.
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