If I ever disappear from your life, know this: I loved you—not perfectly, but completely, with everything I had. I had choices, other paths, other people, but I still chose you. I stayed. And if I leave, it isn’t anger; it is my final act of love.

 

I hope my absence gives you the peace my presence never could. My love was messy, flawed, but real. And even as I let go, I will always hope you find the happiness I couldn’t give you.

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If you think of me, I hope you remember the warmth, the stupid laughter, the quiet moments that needed no words. Even in my silence, I am loving you. And when the world feels too heavy, I hope someone holds your heart the way I always tried to—because even when I leave, my love never really does.