There’s something gut-wrenching about watching someone you loved with everything you had, live on without you.
It’s not like I wanted them to stop. I didn’t want them to be miserable. But seeing them smile again, seeing them fall in love again, while I’m stuck here, waiting for something that will never come—it’s a pain I never imagined feeling.
I was supposed to be there, wasn’t I? I was supposed to be by their side through everything.
We had plans, dreams. But now, all I can do is watch.
From the clouds. From a distance.
Watching them build a life that I’ll never be a part of.
And no matter how much I tell myself it’s okay, that I should be happy for them... it hurts. It tears me apart.
I wanted to be the one. The one they’d think of when they smiled, the one they’d dream about at night. But now, it’s someone else.
Someone else gets to hold them, to hear their laugh, to share the moments I’ll never get back. And I’m just here.
Watching. Alone.
It’s not just the loneliness that hurts. It’s the knowing. Knowing that they’ve moved on, that they’ve found happiness without me.
They’ve let go. And I’m the one still holding on, still waiting in the clouds.
