Monday, August 10, 2026 | 12:52 AM | 0 Alien
Oh, my love.
If I could go back to you on that day he left, I wouldn't tell you to stop loving him.
I wouldn't tell you to forget him.
I wouldn't tell you that someone better was waiting around the corner.
Because deep down, I know you.
I know what you didn't say out loud.
You knew.
At the end of the day, underneath all the anger and disappointment and attempts to move on, you still wanted him.
You could imagine other people.
You could tell yourself that eventually you'd meet someone else.
You could try to convince yourself that you would be perfectly happy without him.
But somewhere deep inside, there was always this quiet truth:
“I still want him.”
And you were ashamed of that sometimes.
You wondered if it made you weak.
It didn't.
So if I could hug you now, I would hold you tightly and tell you:
It's okay.
It's okay that you still love him.
It's okay that a part of you still hopes.
It's okay that you don't want to replace him.
You don't have to force yourself to stop feeling something just because the timing isn't right.
But listen to me carefully.
Wanting him does not mean settling for him.
Those are two completely different things.
You were allowed to want him.
And you were also allowed to demand more from him.
You were allowed to say:
If you're going to love me, learn how to communicate with me.
If you're going to be in my life, don't leave me guessing where I stand.
If you're going to choose me, show me.
Learn how I receive love.
Understand what hurts me.
Understand what makes me feel safe.
Don't expect me to carry the emotional weight of this relationship alone.
You didn't need him to become a completely different person.
You needed him to become a more ready version of himself.
And perhaps that is what you couldn't see while you were hurting.
Maybe he wasn't the person you needed then.
That didn't necessarily mean he could never become someone who could love you properly.
He needed time.
He needed growing up.
He needed to understand himself.
He needed to understand you.
He needed to learn how to communicate.
He needed to learn that loving someone isn't just feeling something intensely inside your chest.
Sometimes love is sending the message.
Sometimes it's explaining where you are.
Sometimes it's answering when you can.
Sometimes it's remembering what makes the other person anxious.
Sometimes it's saying, “I'm sorry.”
Sometimes it's changing a behavior because you know it hurts someone you love.
And you?
You needed to learn that you could ask for those things.
You didn't have to make yourself smaller to keep him.
You didn't have to accept whatever version of him was available.
You could say:
“I love you. But I need more.”
And somehow, the story didn't end there.
When the time came, he returned.
But not exactly as the boy who left.
He came back with more understanding.
More intention.
More willingness to talk.
More willingness to explain himself.
More openness.
More readiness to think about a future.
And you weren't standing there as the same girl either.
You had grown.
You had learned what it felt like to lose him.
You had learned what you needed.
You had learned that love alone wasn't enough.
You needed communication.
Consistency.
Reassurance.
Effort.
Emotional availability.
Intentionality.
And instead of saying,
“I'm just grateful he's back, I'll accept anything,”
you learned to say,
“If we're going to do this again, we're going to do it properly.”
That's the part I wish you could see.
You didn't win because he came back.
You didn't win because you eventually got the person you wanted.
You won because you didn't have to abandon your standards to have him.
You could still want him.
You could still love him.
You could still hope for him.
And yet you could say:
“Step up.”
“Communicate with me.”
“Learn me.”
“Love me in the way I can actually feel.”
And maybe that is what growing up together really looks like.
Not finding someone who already knows everything.
But finding someone willing to learn.
Someone willing to listen when you say,
“This is what makes me feel loved.”
Someone willing to adjust.
Someone who doesn't see your needs as an inconvenience.
Someone who understands that your love language isn't a test he has to pass.
It's a map.
A map showing him how to reach you.
And perhaps, in return, you have your own map to learn.
Because love isn't one person demanding that the other become perfect.
It's two people saying:
“Teach me how to love you better.”
So, old me, I want you to stop looking at that night as the night you lost him.
It was the night you stopped accepting a version of love that wasn't enough for you.
And that distinction matters.
Because you didn't spend the time afterward desperately waiting for him to rescue you.
You lived.
You grew.
You became stronger.
You learned yourself.
You kept your heart.
And when he came back, you didn't just open the door and say,
“Thank God you're here.”
You looked at him and, in your own way, said:
“Then show me you're ready.”
And he began to.
That's why I am so proud of you.
Not because you got him back.
But because you never had to give up yourself to have him.
You always wanted him.
And maybe that's okay.
Maybe sometimes the heart knows who it wants long before life is ready to make the relationship work.
But the lesson was never:
“Wait for him.”
The lesson was:
“If it's meant to be him, let him become ready enough to meet you where you are.”
So come here.
Let me hug you.
You don't have to cry anymore.
You don't have to wonder if you will ever be loved.
You don't have to wonder if you made the wrong choice by loving him.
You don't have to be embarrassed that you still wanted him.
You were never foolish for loving him.
You were simply ahead of the timing.
And when the timing finally caught up—
you didn't get the old him.
You got a man who was learning how to choose you more deliberately.
And you became a woman who knew exactly what she needed from the person she chose.
So, my old self,
thank you for waiting without knowing what you were waiting for.
Thank you for loving without becoming bitter.
Thank you for not settling.
Thank you for keeping your standards even when your heart was begging for him.
And most of all—
thank you for believing, somewhere beneath all that heartbreak, that love could come back differently.
Because it did.
And this time,
you knew how to ask it to stay.
Angel of Blue Diamond Saturn!
