Letting Go of a Love I Thought Would Last

There’s a certain kind of heartbreak that doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not loud or dramatic. It’s quiet. It creeps in slowly. One day you wake up and realize that the person you once loved with everything in you every thought, every heartbeat, every dream you’re now learning how to live without.

I lost feelings for someone I was once deeply in love with. And I don’t mean it happened overnight. I had to force myself to stop loving him. I had to push my heart to stop caring, stop longing, stop hoping. I trained my mind to shut him out. I filled my days with distractions, tried to convince myself I was fine, tried to smile through it. I did everything I could to let him go not because I stopped caring, but because holding on started to destroy me.

And the truth is, there are still days when I feel a wave of it all coming back. Days when I just want to hold him again. Days when I remember how safe I used to feel in his presence. How our laughs felt endless, how time stood still when we were together. I miss those moments. I miss who I was when I was with him carefree, hopeful, in love.

But then reality sinks in. I remember why I had to let go. I remember the nights I cried myself to sleep, the confusion, the way my worth started to disappear in his presence. I remember constantly questioning if I mattered. I remember fighting so hard to be seen, to be loved the way I deserved, only to be met with silence, inconsistency, or worse manipulation disguised as love.

Sometimes I catch myself still asking, Do I deserve love like that again? Do I even trust myself to choose better next time? These thoughts are heavy, and healing isn’t a straight line. But I remind myself: I didn’t lose him. I found myself.

Letting go doesn’t always mean you stop loving someone. Sometimes it means loving yourself more. It means choosing peace over chaos, clarity over confusion, and healing over temporary happiness. It means giving yourself the chance to rediscover the parts of you that got buried under the weight of a love that was no longer healthy.

This is my journey not of forgetting, but of releasing. I’m learning to forgive myself for holding on too long, and for walking away too late. I’m learning that it’s okay to miss someone and still know they’re not meant to stay. I’m learning that just because a love was deep doesn’t mean it was right.

And maybe one day, I’ll feel that kind of love again but next time, I’ll make sure it feels like freedom, not survival.