TIMELESS REFLECTIONS BY ZOEY

Dear You,

Whoever you are or perhaps, whoever you were this is not a letter of blame. It is not bitterness disguised as poetry. It is not a plea for return. It is simply a moment paused. Captured in ink. 

Written in the quiet dialect of heartbreak.

There are memories that arrive without knocking. They do not ask for permission. They enter like wind through an open window uninvited, full of force.

A song plays. One that never mattered much before. And suddenly, I am somewhere I promised myself I would never go again. A flash of your smile. The sound of your laugh. That one careless dance beneath wedding lights. That same song played beneath it all. And something in me gave way.

Not because the love was false. But because it was true at least for me.

I have asked myself the questions. How does someone walk away from what they once vowed to protect? How does a person disappear without even trying to understand the one they promised to stand beside?

And slowly, I have stopped waiting for answers.

Closure is not always a conversation. Sometimes it is learning to live without the apology that never came.

What hurts is not only that you left. It is how you left.

With stories you never asked me to explain.
With questions you never voiced.
With walls you never let me break through.

You walked away without really knowing me.
And I remained, holding too much. Feeling too deeply. Breaking in silence.

But this is the part no one warns you about:

Healing does not arrive like thunder. It arrives in whispers.

It is lifting my child when my arms barely remember their own strength.

It is brushing my hair, showing up to work, laughing at something unexpected.

It is surviving a kind of grief that has no instruction manual.

Perhaps one day you will feel what was lost. When your world quiets. When the distractions fade. When your choices sit with you in the dark, unfiltered.

Maybe memory will visit you the way it visited me.

But by then, I will not be waiting.
I will not be in the place where you left me.

My heart will not be a door you can simply knock on again.

It will be a home reclaimed, rebuilt with stronger locks and rooms full of peace.

And if my daughter ever finds these words, I hope she will understand this:

Her mother did not break because she was unloved.
She broke because she loved too much, in a world that did not know how to hold her.
But she healed anyway.

So no, this is not a goodbye. Not really.

It is simply me… closing the chapter you never stayed long enough to finish.

With peace,
Zoey