02/07/2026
After the breakup, we deleted all contact information. Today is the 72nd day. Just five minutes ago, I received a verification message: “How are you recently?” I didn’t reply. Three minutes later, another message appeared: “Sorry, I really miss you.” I still ignored it. An hour later, he called again. Seeing the number’s location, I knew it was him. I didn’t answer or hang up. Looking at the familiar number, tears soaked my cheeks. It was unwillingness, it was reluctance—I couldn’t tell anymore. Now I face two choices: regain what I’ve lost or start a new life. Which one hurts less? I thought about it all night and finally refused.
I can’t forget how I survived those days when no one cared. After you left, I locked myself in a small dark room, ate only one meal a day, lost 20 pounds in a week, cried every day, and couldn’t sleep at night. I knew there was no hope, yet I waited endlessly. In just three months, it felt like three lifetimes. You went around and came back, realizing I was the best. You said you loved me, then said you didn’t. In the end, you were the one who proposed getting back together. Why do you think I can always forgive you, reunite with you, and hold no grudges? How many times have I naively believed you, only for you to hurt me again? You loved me less than anyone else and hurt me more than anyone else.
So I have to ask: Where were you when I gave up my dignity to keep you? Where were you when I waited desperately for your return? Where were you when I needed company and comfort in my darkest moments? It was you who taught me that endless flattery and catering only get a response, not love. You will never understand true coldness because the pain isn’t yours. You can’t comprehend the hurt. Those nights, those days when I dared not cry out loud, the feeling of tears rolling down my face—only I know. I tell you now: I can never reconcile with you in this lifetime. When you desperately wanted to leave, you weren’t afraid of losing me at all.
I’ve seen you shirk responsibility, yell at me, look at me sadly then walk away without a care. I’ve seen myself become mentally broken like a madman. But I haven’t seen you love me for a long time—only watched you love others.
Do you know? From that day on, it took me a long time to find myself again. I became wary of everything I once obsessed over, guarding against the pain of loss, and holding no expectations of anyone. Now I live well alone. I no longer have wild thoughts, no longer place high expectations on anyone, no longer stay up all night heartbroken, and no longer rush out of the shower to reply to your messages. Even if there are thousands of roads in the world, I no longer want to walk any with you. You were my dream of gain and loss; to you, I was someone you could have or not. Flowers bloom and fall—everything has a beginning and an end. We don’t need to meet or be together again.
Finally, I understand: losing is more realistic than having. No matter the relationship, when love ends, the fate ends. Blame yourself for the faults and leave politely.
