The silence between them was like a thick fog, obscuring memories and stifling words they once shared so easily. In the empty spaces where conversations used to flow, a strange echo remained an ache that lingered even as days turned into months.
Though they weren't in each other's lives anymore, he still felt the tug of his presence, like a quiet hum in the back of his mind. He knew it was time to let go, yet there was an undeniable warmth left behind, and it took root deep in his chest, refusing to fade. Every now and then, when least expected, a memory would brush past him his laugh, the way his eyes softened in the afternoon light. His heart would stumble at the familiar ache, and he'd swallow the words he'd never say aloud: *I miss you*.
He couldn't deny that he had been hurt. His words, once filled with love, had grown sharp, leaving marks he could feel even now. But in those quiet moments of reflection, resentment rarely stayed. Instead, he found himself hoping he was okay, wishing his days were filled with gentle happiness. Maybe they weren't destined to be together, but in some unspoken way, he still cared.
Without needing words, he wished him the best. He'd live on in his thoughts, a presence that no goodbye could fully erase. And as he moved forward, a small part of him carried him along a whisper, a memory, a distant warmth that lingered, reminding him of the gentle beauty and bittersweet nature of love.