He wasn’t just someone in my life.

He was the place I felt safe.The kind of safe where the world could be falling apart, and somehow… when I was with him, it didn’t feel like it could touch me. Like I had this space where I could just exist without worrying about anything outside of it.And now that’s gone.

And I don’t think I realized how much I depended on that feeling until I didn’t have it anymore.

I didn’t just lose him.

I lost that sense of safety.I lost a piece of my home.

And if I’m being honest… I didn’t handle it well.I spiraled.

Not in a way people always see. Not loud. But internally, everything shifted. I felt lost in a way I didn’t expect. Like something that grounded me disappeared, and I didn’t know how to stand the same without it.

Because when you lose someone who held that much of you… you don’t just move on.

You question everything.

I still have questions I don’t have answers to.

Does he ever think about us?

Do certain songs hit him the way they hit me?

Because they hit me all the time.

Moments we had, conversations we shared, the way we just were… they show up out of nowhere. And I don’t have anywhere to send that anymore.

Does he ever look at the clock and see 11:11…and think about texting me?

Because that wasn’t just a time.

That was ours.

Every day.

Make a wish.

A message.

A moment that was just… us.

And now it still shows up.

Like it’s supposed to mean something.

Like I’m supposed to reach for my phone.

And I don’t.

And I just sit there… feeling it instead.

Does he miss the snaps?

The random conversations?

The way we talked about everything and nothing all at once?

Because I do.I miss all of it.

And then there are the questions that sit deeper.

Was there something more on his side that I didn’t see?

Did it matter that I never wanted it to be anything romantic?

We never had that conversation.

But now I question it.

Because people have a way of assuming men and women can’t have a connection like that without there being something more behind it.

And now I don’t know what was real.

And that changes how I see things.

Because he knew me.

Not the surface version. Not the one people casually interact with.

He knew the layers most people don’t reach.

And I trusted him with that.

And now… there’s something else I can’t ignore.

I know more about his relationship with her than I ever should have.Things that were said… the way he spoke about her… it wasn’t just frustration. It was deeper than that. Disturbing at times. The kind of things that stick with you whether you want them to or not.

He made it clear, over and over, that he would never go back. That she wasn’t worth it. That it was done. That he had already closed that door.

He even admitted he used her for his own selfish needs.

And I listened to all of that. For years. So now… seeing where he is?

It forces me to question everything.

Because if someone can speak about another person that way… with that much certainty… and then turn around and go right back to them…What does that say?

And more importantly…What did he say about me when I wasn’t around?

If I was really his best friend…if everything he said about me was real…Then why does this feel so inconsistent?Why does the ending not match the person I thought he was?

Because now I’m not just grieving him.

I’m questioning the integrity behind everything he said.

And that’s a different kind of loss.

Because it doesn’t just make you miss them…It makes you reevaluate them.

~Tj🩷