1. Writing a Letter I Won’t Send

Years ago, when a friend lost her mother, we deliberated on how best to support her. As one of the few in our circle who had experienced a similar loss, I voiced my concerns.

“I believe we should let her take the lead,” I said.

“Why?” they asked.

“Because everyone grieves in their own way. If she wants company, we should be there for her. If she prefers solitude, we should respect that and offer support quietly.”

I became too attached to this man.

His absence is palpable.

The end of any relationship can bring about a sense of grief.

We mourn for those who have touched our hearts. Each of us has our own way of letting go. Breakups can shatter us temporarily, sometimes profoundly, as in the case of a divorce, or in subtler ways.

It’s a small wound that lingers until we find closure.

I will not have the opportunity to see, speak to, or text him again. I wish I could process my grief differently. I wish I could be someone who doesn't feel the need to articulate my pain. I wish I could simply move on without addressing it.

But I can't.

So, I will write a letter that I will never send.

I will bid farewell to this man, expressing everything I feel—words that he will never hear. I will share the things I didn’t voice while we were together, alongside insights that I’ve gained since.

I will pour my heart out onto paper.

I will shed some tears.

I will say goodbye.

2. Embracing Positive Acceptance

I once fought against the reality of my failing marriage, clinging to denial about divorce. I consider those years as battling against the universe.

The worst part of misery is resisting it.

It only deepens the pain.

Eventually, I surrendered. I accepted that my marriage was over and that divorce was unavoidable. I chose to follow the path I had long evaded.

I found my truth.

I allowed myself to accept the situation.

Only then did I begin to see the silver lining. Only then did I realize that good can emerge from bad circumstances. It was through acceptance that I regained my sense of inner calm and peace.

It was done.

And that was acceptable.

I don’t want my relationship with him to be over.

Although our time together was brief, it felt significant. We may have only scratched the surface in some aspects, yet we also delved deeper than anticipated.

We deceived ourselves.

I must accept that it’s finished.

I can’t wait for a text that will spark laughter. I can’t hope for a phone call that clarifies a misunderstanding. I can’t cling to the idea that our friendship will somehow persist.

I must avoid indulging in fantasies.

I need to seek the positives that may arise from this negative experience.

3. Stepping Back into the Dating Scene

It’s amusing that I, who once shunned dating, now find myself intrigued by it. I attribute this shift to the man I was seeing, who made me remember the joys of having someone special in my life.

A good man.

Someone who made me feel secure.

I never thought I would trust a man again.

Yet, I did, and that vulnerability led to heartache. However, it was worth the experience. Just a few weeks back, I might not have felt this way—tears were still fresh. But I have no regrets about him.

I’ve rejoined an online dating platform.

It’s time.

I’m going to go out on a few dates, fully aware that this might be just a distraction. I even wrote about it in my piece, I’m Dating to Get Over a Man — Probably Not the Best Idea.

I need to move on from this man.

I want to heal.

It’s a journey.

It involves mourning the loss of someone who touched my heart. It’s an exhausting emotional process that requires me to acknowledge my truth. I made this choice.

I wanted to be with him.

I was the one who considered a short-term relationship ideal for someone who had previously avoided dating. I established rules for myself that I later disregarded. I even jokingly told him not to text me more than twice after his departure.

But there was truth behind that humor.

Now, I face regret.

Because I have a dilemma.

When my thoughts drift, they always return to him.