There are so many words I never told you.
Not because I didn’t feel them, but because I thought I had more time.
Time to say, I need you.
Time to say, you make the world less heavy.
Time to say, please don’t ever go.

But time is cruel.
It slips away quietly, stealing the moments we think are endless.
And suddenly, you were gone.
And all the words I thought I’d say tomorrow became the heaviest stones I carry today.

I replay our last conversation over and over.
Did I sound distracted? Did I let you know how much you mattered?
Did you leave this world knowing that someone’s heart beat differently because of you?
Or did you leave thinking you were just another face in the crowd?
That thought haunts me most of all.

Because you weren’t just someone.
You were my someone.
The one who knew my silence better than anyone else knew my words.
The one who could read the sadness in my smile.
The one who stayed when others walked away.

Losing you didn’t feel like losing a person.
It felt like losing a part of myself.
The version of me that laughed louder, that dreamed bigger, that felt safer — it left with you.
And now I’m left with echoes.
Your favorite songs.
The places we said we’d go.
The little things that never felt important until they became the only things left.

I wonder if you know how many nights I’ve stayed awake, talking to you in the dark.
Telling you all the things I was too scared to say when you were here.
I wonder if you can hear me when I whisper your name into the silence.
If you can feel how much I miss you in the moments when the world grows too quiet.

People tell me grief fades.
That one day I’ll wake up and the pain will be softer.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe time does dull the edges.
But I don’t want to forget.
I don’t want a life where I stop searching for you in the crowd, or where I stop reaching for my phone to send you something funny, only to remember you won’t reply.

Because forgetting would mean losing you all over again.
And once was enough.

So instead, I’ll carry you.
In my words.
In my choices.
In the way I love the people who are still here.
You may be gone, but you’re woven into everything I am.

And if I could have one more day — just one — I wouldn’t waste it.
I wouldn’t hold back.
I would tell you everything I never said.
How much I needed you.
How much you saved me in ways you never knew.
How much I loved you.

And maybe, just maybe, you already knew.
Maybe somewhere, somehow, you heard all the words my heart screamed but my lips never spoke.
I hope you did.
Because I’ll be whispering them still, until the day we meet again.

Always and Forever

💬 What is the one thing you wish you had told someone you’ve lost?
Share it in the comments. Your words might be the ones someone else needs to read today.