There are things I wish I had understood sooner.
I am sorry for hurting you.
This letter comes from the deepest part of my heart, the place where memories of you still live. It is written through the way my eyes once looked into yours, searching for answers I was too blind to see.
For so long, I thought I was the only one who was hurting.
I was wrong.
Only now do I realize that you were hurting too.
I remember that day when I tried to talk about us. I remember how your hands trembled slightly. I remember how hard you fought to keep your emotions under control. You reached for your cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag as if the smoke could carry away everything you could not say.
But I saw your eyes.
There were tears in your eyes
You refused to look at me. You turned your face away, but I could see the pain you were trying so hard to hide. I knew you were wounded.
Then you said, “Enough. There’s nothing left to talk about.”
I still wonder how much it hurt you to reach that point, how much pain someone must carry before they no longer want to speak.
“Do you hate me?” I asked.
You stayed silent.
And in that silence, I felt the distance growing between us.
I apologized. Again and again. I told you I was sorry if I had hurt you. The truth is, I never realized how deep your wounds were. I spent so much time talking about mental health, about understanding emotions, about healing.
Yet somehow, I failed to see that your heart was breaking too.
Maybe I was so focused on my own pain that I forgot to notice yours.
And that realization hurts.
Because how could I say I loved you so much, yet not realize I was hurting you?
How could I claim to understand you so well, yet miss something so important?
Maybe we were both wounded.
Maybe we hurt each other without meaning to.
Maybe that is why you chose to let go.
And honestly, I am sad.
Not just because we ended, but because I feel like I lost someone incredibly close to me. I have never shared myself with anyone the way I shared myself with you.
I told you everything.
You knew my fears, my dreams, my weaknesses, and my secrets.
And I knew yours.
We shared happiness, sadness, anger, and laughter. We traveled together, explored new places, created memories, and witnessed pieces of the world side by side.
How am I supposed to forget all of that?
How am I supposed to erase someone who became part of my everyday life?
Sometimes I still ask myself:
Why couldn’t we be okay?
Why couldn’t we find our way back to each other?
Because if I am being honest, there are still moments when I wish I could go with you again, on another trip, another conversation, another ordinary day that would become a beautiful memory.
But perhaps what we needed was something we never truly gave each other.
Space.
Space to heal.
Space to forgive.
Space to learn how to love ourselves before trying to hold on to someone else.
So before I end this letter, I want to ask you one last thing.
A promise.
If one day Allah decides that our paths should cross again, if one day He gives us a second chance to meet after we have both healed, after we have both grown.
Will you go with me again?
Not as the people we once were.
But as two hearts that finally learned what love, forgiveness, and understanding truly mean.