The Future I Had Already Met

There are some people you get used to having around before you ever realize it happened.

You become familiar with the small things—the runs, the laughs, the conversations that wander nowhere, the version of someone who is focused one minute and completely ridiculous the next. None of it seems particularly important while it is happening. Then one day you imagine those things not being there, and suddenly they feel enormous.

I think that is what I finally understood.

I had quietly made room for you in parts of my life I hadn't even noticed yet.

And maybe I made too much room.

There is nothing wrong with you for that. You are still the same wonderfully genuine, kind, funny, beautifully imperfect person I got to know. This isn't about asking you to be anything different.

It's just me realizing that sometimes caring about someone also means knowing when to take a small step back.

That part hurts more than I expected.

Not because I want my absence to prove anything, and not because I expect the story to suddenly change. I think it hurts because somewhere along the way I had started assuming there would simply be more.

More runs. More laughing. More random conversations. More learning the tiny things nobody thinks to ask about—favorite colors, coffee orders, the things that scare you, the things that make you unexpectedly emotional.

More ordinary days.

I think those were the ones I was looking forward to most.

Maybe life circles people back toward each other. Maybe it doesn't. Either way, I am grateful I got to know this version of you.

Some people leave a bigger mark than they probably ever realize.