Three Dots

Sometimes I don’t know how to start these letters.

But in your case, I think I’m just afraid of what comes next.

I feel like sometimes actions only come when it’s already too late. And no matter what happens after that, some things become harder to repair.

I felt alone.

For so long, I felt like no one—including you—really understood who I was. And I think that hurt the most.

Feeling like I was somehow less than everyone else. Like my love, or at least the way I showed it, meant less. Like it could go unnoticed until the moment when noticing it might not be enough anymore.

But one thing I can say with certainty is that I loved every single thing I did with you.

I loved the moments. The memories. The life we shared together.

I cared. And I cared a lot.

I was there when you needed me. I listened when I didn’t have to. I loved even when I felt like I didn’t have much love left inside me to give.

And I did all of it with an immense amount of love for you.

You said you felt it.

You said I was enough.

So why did I always feel like I wasn’t?

I’m too deep in the dark right now to know the answer. I’m exhausted from fighting it. Sometimes it feels like my soul is slowly fading.

Maybe because I gave it all.

Maybe because I didn’t say it all.

Maybe because somewhere along the way, I stopped standing up for myself.

But there is one thing I don’t question:

It wasn’t because I didn’t love you enough.

That, I am sure of.

Right now, I’m just feeling.

Hopeless.

Lonely.

Empty.

And maybe, for now, that’s okay.

I blame myself for some of it. I let too much get this far without saying what was happening inside me.

Maybe one day I’ll find my way out of here.

Maybe I’ll find myself again.

Until then...

Three dots.