To the You Who Thought I Moved On So Easily
Dear Jules,
People like to believe in clean endings. They think that when someone leaves, it’s because they’re sure. Because they’re ready to move forward, to close one door and open another.
I wish that had been true.
From the outside, I probably looked fine. Maybe even better than fine. I smiled when I was supposed to, laughed when people expected me to, filled my days with enough distractions that I almost convinced myself I was okay. Almost.
I wonder if that’s what you saw. If you looked at me from across the room, from across the space I had put between us, and thought, She’s already over it. If you thought I had walked away so easily.
But looking okay and being okay are two very different things.
I wasn’t okay, Jules. I just didn’t know how to show it.
—Sam
Looking okay and being okay are not the same.
Dear Jules,
I didn’t know what to do with the quiet.
When you’ve spent so long building your life around someone, their absence is deafening. So, I did what I’ve always done—I filled the silence.
New places. New people. I threw myself into things that had nothing to do with you, things that should have made me feel alive again. I stayed out late, said yes to things I normally wouldn’t, convinced myself that moving forward meant moving fast.
But nothing fit the way it used to.
I could be in the middle of a crowded room, music so loud it drowned out my thoughts, and still feel like something was missing. Because it wasn’t just about losing you, it was losing the version of me that existed when I was with you.
And I didn’t know how to get her back.
—Sam
I kept moving, hoping I wouldn’t feel the emptiness catch up to me.
Dear Jules,
During the day, it was easier to pretend. The world kept moving, and I kept moving with it.
But at night? That’s when it caught up to me.
That’s when I would reach for my phone, out of habit, only to remember there was no message waiting for me. That’s when I would roll over in bed and realize the space next to me felt bigger than it should. That’s when my brain would slow down just enough for the memories to creep in like the sound of your laugh, the way you used to rest your head on my shoulder, the way saying your name had once felt like second nature.
And God, I hated it.
Because no matter how much I told myself I had done the right thing, that we had become something we couldn’t hold onto, I still wanted you. I still missed you.
And missing you felt like a kind of grief I wasn’t prepared for.
—Sam
I kept waiting for sleep to bring peace. It never did.
Dear Jules,
I never told you, but I heard the whispers.
People said I had moved on quickly. That I seemed fine. That maybe I had never been as in love with you as you were with me.
I wonder if you believed them.
Because the truth is, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped catching myself in moments where I almost said your name, almost reached for my phone, almost turned around when I passed by places that still felt like ours.
But I didn’t let myself say it out loud. I didn’t let myself reach out.
Maybe that was my biggest mistake. Letting you believe I didn’t care anymore.
Because I did. More than you’ll ever know.
—Sam
I never said it out loud, but I never stopped missing you.
Dear Jules,
I thought leaving would give me answers.
I thought that if I walked away, if I put enough distance between us, I would finally understand why I felt the way I did.
But all I got was space. Empty, quiet, stretching space. And it didn’t fix anything.
I was still restless. Still lost. Still full of questions I didn’t know how to answer.
Maybe I thought love was supposed to be simpler. That choosing to be with someone meant it was supposed to feel like certainty, like all the pieces clicking into place. But loving you never felt like that. It felt like a constant, aching want, like holding onto something I wasn’t sure how to keep.
And when I walked away, I realized something no one ever tells you about leaving.
Just because you make the choice doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
—Sam
I thought walking away would bring clarity. All it did was prove that love doesn’t let go just because you do.
Dear Jules,
If you ever wonder whether I forgot you, I didn’t.
If you ever wonder whether I loved you less just because I left, I didn’t.
If you ever wonder whether I still think about you, even now—well. You already know the answer, don’t you?
Some people leave and never look back. I wasn’t one of them. I think a part of me will always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the past to catch up to me.
Because love doesn’t just disappear. Not real love.
And you? You were real.
—Sam
You never really stop carrying the people who changed you.