Another day…
Another day I wake up crying. Same time as always – 4:30 AM. Not even the alarm clock is awake yet; two hours to go before it rings. But the real alarm is in my head – my anxiety, my depression. I turn over in bed and, yes, I’m alone. As always. Except for those two months when you came into my life like a hurricane. You gave me hope. You made me believe someone could actually love me.
I don’t know if you’ll ever read these words, but I feel the need to write them. I’m not looking for answers, explanations, or even a reaction. I just need to let out what I’ve been carrying inside since you left – as if putting it into words might ease the weight on my chest.
I remember your promises. You said Christmas and my birthday would feel different this year, special. And for the first time in years, I believed those days might be more than just “one more day.” I was excited to share those moments with you, to feel like I belonged somewhere – like your presence could be my shelter. But December brought silence. Slowly, you started to drift away. Your replies took longer. Weekends came without you. I didn’t say anything. I held onto the hope that it was just a rough patch – that things would go back to how they were.
Then came December 28th, the Day of the Innocents. I remember that day with painful clarity. I saw the posts, the photos, the words that weren’t meant for me. I felt something break inside. I tried to tell myself they didn’t mean anything, that they were just friends. But every image, every message, was a reminder that I was no longer part of your life – that I had been left behind.
Get Último cuarto’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
I don’t know what I did wrong. I’ve asked myself over and over what went wrong, what I could have changed. It hurts to think I wasn’t enough – that I wasn’t someone worth staying for. But in the end, maybe it’s not about blame or mistakes. Sometimes people just choose different paths, even if one of them is left standing in the same place, waiting.
Still, I’m here. Breathing. Fighting this sadness every day, a sadness that seems endless. But I’m also learning. Learning that pain can be a cruel teacher, but even in the darkness, there can be small flickers of light. This letter is one of them. An attempt to release, to let go.
I don’t know if these words will ever reach you, but I needed to write them. Maybe one day, the pain won’t be so sharp. Maybe I’ll remember you with a softer heart, maybe even with a grateful smile – for what we had, for what you taught me, even if it came through heartbreak.
I just wanted you to know.
With everything I was, everything I am, and everything I’m trying to be
