Yesterday I had another closure conversation with my ex.
The kind where you keep revisiting the same questions, hoping for one missing piece. One sentence that finally makes everything make sense.
Eventually, it did.
Not because the answer was what I wanted, but because it was honest.
Life has handed both of us more than we can currently carry. We have things to process, things to heal from, and roads we need to walk alone. Maybe someday we'll find our way back to friendship.
This morning, I woke up feeling lighter, as if I'd finally set down a suitcase I'd been carrying for months.
And yet, there was still a hole in my heart.
Some clarity.
Some relief.
Some heartbreak.
I still think he was the one.
Maybe there are rooms inside our hearts that remain furnished long after someone moves out.
