Larissa sat at the kitchen table, the dim light of dawn spilling across the paper before her. Her pen hovered over the letter, trembling slightly in her grasp as the weight of what she was about to do settled in her chest. She had never imagined this moment would come. At least, not like this.
Her gaze flickered to the bedroom door, where she could still hear the soft rise and fall of your breathing. You were asleep—peaceful, unaware of the storm she was about to unleash upon both of your lives.
With a final, shaky breath, she began to write.
Hours later, the morning light filtered through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the bed. You stirred awake, reaching instinctively for the warmth of Larissa’s body. Your hand met the cold, undisturbed sheets instead.
Your heart sank.
“Larissa?” you called softly, voice thick with sleep. The apartment was silent. A glance at the clock told you it was early—too early for her to have gone anywhere without telling you.
Sliding out of bed, you wrapped yourself in the cardigan draped over the chair and made your way to the kitchen. The knot in your stomach tightened as you entered and saw the counter.
A single letter sat there, folded neatly in half. Your name was written on the front in Larissa’s familiar, elegant handwriting.
No.
Your breath hitched, and you stood frozen, staring at the letter as though it might disappear if you didn’t move. The past few months had been rocky, full of arguments and moments that left you feeling like you were grasping at something slipping through your fingers. But this… this was something you weren’t prepared for.
With trembling hands, you picked up the letter and unfolded it. Her words, written in ink that was beginning to smudge, stared back at you.
My dearest,
This is the hardest letter I will ever write. I know you’ll hate me for leaving without a proper goodbye, but I feared I wouldn’t have the strength to walk away if I saw your face one last time. Please believe me when I say this decision comes from a place of love.
When we first met, I was certain you would pass me by—a fleeting encounter, forgotten as quickly as it happened. But then you smiled at me, and I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: hope.
The memory struck you like a wave, pulling you under.
It had been a rainy day, the kind that made the city seem quieter. You’d ducked into a coffee shop to escape the downpour, your coat dripping as you scanned the room for a free seat. Most of the tables were full, except for one by the window, occupied by a tall, elegant woman reading a book.
“Excuse me,” you’d said, your voice tentative. “Is this seat taken?”
She looked up, startled, her ice-blue eyes meeting yours. “Oh, no. Please.” She gestured for you to sit.
What began as polite conversation soon turned into something more. She was magnetic—sharp-witted, articulate, and achingly beautiful. Her name was Larissa, and as she spoke, you found yourself leaning closer, hanging on to every word. By the time the rain stopped, you were utterly captivated.
I look back on those early days with so much joy. You brought light into my life, a happiness I hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, I felt young again, alive in a way I’d long forgotten.
You closed your eyes, a fresh wave of tears spilling down your cheeks. The memory shifted to another moment: the first time Larissa had taken you to Nevermore. She’d been nervous, fussing over the details, worried about how her world would look through your eyes. But you had reassured her, holding her hand tightly as she introduced you to the place she loved.
That day, she’d kissed you for the first time, standing beneath the towering gates of Nevermore as the evening sun bathed everything in gold. It had felt like a fairytale, one you never wanted to end.
But as time went on, I began to see the truth I had been too selfish to acknowledge. You are so much younger than I am, my love. I thought I could ignore it, that it wouldn’t matter in the face of what we shared. But it does matter. How could it not?
You have your whole life ahead of you, a life full of possibilities, and yet here you are, tethered to someone whose years are numbered. Someone who will grow old far sooner than you. Someone who will leave you far too soon.
Another memory surfaced, this one sharper, heavier. It had been late at night, and Larissa had been unusually quiet. You’d asked her what was wrong, and after a long silence, she’d finally spoken.
“I worry about the future,” she’d said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What happens when I’m no longer here? What will you do then?”
You’d reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t care about the future, Larissa. I care about us. Right now.”
She hadn’t looked convinced, her eyes clouded with something you couldn’t name.
I’ve tried to silence my doubts, to tell myself your love is enough. But the truth is, I’ve only made things worse. I see it in the way I’ve treated you—the way I’ve snapped at you, pushed you away, hoping you’d leave. But you stayed, because that’s who you are. Kind. Loyal. Too good for me.
Another tear fell as you thought back to her sharper moments, the way her words had begun to cut deeper as the months wore on. “Why do you insist on fussing over me?” she’d snapped one night after you’d asked her if she was all right.
You’d flinched at her tone, but instead of walking away, you’d stayed. Always. Because you loved her.
This isn’t the life I want for you. You are too vibrant, too full of life, to spend your best years with someone who is holding you back. You deserve laughter and adventure, late nights and sunlit mornings, a love that isn’t weighed down by guilt. You deserve someone who can give you everything I cannot.
Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, the letter trembling in your hands.
Please know that this choice is not born of a lack of love. On the contrary, it is because I love you more than I thought possible that I must let you go. I want you to live, my darling, to truly live—without the weight of me holding you back.
The apartment felt too quiet, the air too still, as though the world itself had stopped as you read the last few words.
My final act of love is staying away from you for the rest of my life.