You can listen to this while reading:
There are days when I tell myself that if you never come back to me, I would still be okay with that. I tell myself that all I want is for you to be happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me. I just pray that you end up with someone patient, gentle, and someone who knows how to love you in the ways I couldn’t before.
It’s really hard for me to learn how to forgive myself for who I was back then, because I didn’t know better yet. There are apologies I never got to give in the right way. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love gently before. Now I live with the weight of knowing that growth and maturity came too late for us.
If I’m being honest, there’s still a small part of me that hopes for one more chance to show you who I am now, to show you that I learned. I don’t want to disrupt the life you’ve built now. I just wish that, somehow, you could see that loving you changed me for the better, that the version of me you knew before wasn’t the final one.
But what hurts is knowing that there are versions of me you will never meet. You were part of the reason I became this person, yet you’re no longer here to see the result. Maybe that chance will never come, maybe it’s already gone. But if life is kind, maybe one day you’ll see that I learned, even if it was too late for us.