Some endings aren't sad, they're just overdue."
Healing doesn't happen overnight. It happens in little moments, like the first morning you wake up and don't check your phone for his message. Or when you pass the place where you once waited for him and feel… nothing, absolutely nothing the feeling is strange.
That's how I knew I was finally healing. Not because I stopped loving him all at once, but because I started loving myself more, thinking of myself, worrying about what I like and not what he will like.
The days kept moving, and somewhere between exam papers and deep breaths, I found new pieces of me, the ones I'd lost trying to hold onto him. I started doing things for me. Doing all the things i didn't have the chance to do when i was with him, i wanted to bring back Jay the real Jay. I tried making new friends and laughing with people who didn't whisper behind my back. Listening to music without thinking of him in every lyric, i could finally listen to sad songs without thinking of him. For the first time in months, I felt like I was standing on solid ground again.
And then came the moment.
It wasn't dramatic.
No tears. No arguments.
Just quiet clarity.
He texted me again. Another casual message, asking if I could help him again as usual regarding topics he wasn't sure of. Small talk, but I knew the pattern. A slow reel in, like he always did. Testing the waters. Hoping I'd fold again.
But I didn't.
This time, I didn't even open it, just left it I felt great cause I found out I wasn't controlled by him again by mood didn't depend on him again I was free.
Instead, I did what I should've done the first time he stopped believing in me.
I blocked his number.
And as simple as that action was, it felt like a door closing. One I'd been holding half-open for far too long. A part of me whispered, "What if he changes? What if he really means it this time?" But the louder part and the wiser part answered back, "If he wanted to love you right, he would've done it the first time."
It was never my job to fix someone who broke me.
That night, I sat by my window, holding the bracelet he got for me with my name on it, he gave me. That little heart had once meant everything to me. I used to wear it under my school jacket, tucked close to my skin like a secret prayer. Even after the lies. Even after the silence. I wore it not for him, but because it reminded me of the version of us I couldn't let go.
But now? It just felt like weight. A reminder of a girl who begged for crumbs when she deserved the whole feast.
I took it off, slowly, like shedding old skin. For a second, I hesitated. My fingers clenched around it. But then I stood up, walked to the trash bin in the corner of my room… and let it fall.
No tears. Just breath.
It was over.
That bracelet wasn't love anymore — it was a bead. And I was done being bound by memories that didn't serve me anymore.
Funny thing is, life didn't suddenly become magical the next day. My exams didn't get easier. The girls who spread rumors still looked at me like I owed them my joy. But inside, something had shifted.
I had shifted.
I started smiling without faking it. Walking into school without scanning or searching for him, looking for any opportunity to talk to him or make him notice me. I even stopped remembering the sound of his laugh so vividly, I remember learning his number but now it just disappeared like i never learnt it, like it had been recorded in my mind and finally faded out. That's how healing happens, I guess. Quietly. Softly. And then all at once.
And I found new things. New passions. New people who saw me clearly, not as a rumor, not as a girl who lost her boyfriend, but as someone strong enough to survive being broken and still bloom.
David became just a name in my past. A lesson. One I had to learn the hard way. I no longer hated him. I didn't love him, either. I just… let him go.
And for the first time, that was enough.
Sometimes I sit alone and think about everything. How quickly things can change. How people you trust can twist your story. How love can hurt really bad. But also, how you can rise anyway.
This is the end of our story.
At least, I think it is.
But life has a way of circling back. Of rewriting things when you least expect it.
So maybe it's not "goodbye forever."
Maybe it's just "goodbye for now."
Or maybe… just maybe… it is the end.
Either way, I'm not waiting anymore.
Because now, I'm writing my story — one where I'm the main character, not someone's side plot.
And it feels good.
Really good.
THE END.
…or is it?
Watch and see what life has planned out, might not be the end for now....