Confession for Her

I kept searching for your presence, hoping you would be there to listen, to make me feel lighter, to ease the anxiety that has been consuming me. Sadly, during those moments when I needed you most, you weren’t approachable, and that absence left me feeling more alone than I ever expected.

I have this anxious attachment that I’ve been carrying for years. I’m constantly afraid that someone important to me will suddenly leave without a trace, or that one day they’ll say their goodbyes and I won’t be ready for it. Loved ones, relatives, friends—especially people I grow fond of.

As time passed, it didn’t get easier. I was betrayed by one of my friends too. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t confront anyone. I just cried quietly, alone. I isolated myself, pretending I was fine when I wasn’t. And no, I’m not a tough man. I cry a lot. I break down. I withdraw. I get scared.

I get attached, then terrified that the same thing will happen again—that people will leave, and I’ll be left wondering what I did wrong. I’ve been dealing with this for more than four years now. The people who left, the memories, the goodbyes that weren’t properly said—they still haunt me.

During our time in Medina, I remember how I was constantly waiting for you to come online. Every single day, I held onto the hope that I could share my stories with you—the little details of my life, the joy I felt during our outings, the simple moments I thought would make you smile.

You were always on my mind, and the excitement of telling you about my day kept me going. But as the hours passed, that excitement slowly turned into sadness. I felt lonely, empty, and disconnected because I couldn’t feel your presence. It was like reaching out into the void, waiting for someone who never came.

And before we even returned from Medina, I discovered something that broke me even more. I found out that someone I trusted deeply—someone I thought would never hurt me—spoke words that cut me to the core.

They treated my friend unfairly, and worse, they criticized my insecurities in ways I couldn’t forget. That betrayal was unbearable. Even now, I still feel nauseous whenever I recall those moments. It was a wound that never healed.

And in the middle of that pain, do you know who came to my mind first? You, Chiene. Only you. Because despite everything, you were the one person who made me feel safe.

Talking to you was like finding shelter in the middle of a storm. You were the person I thought I could always turn to whenever I had emotions I couldn’t handle alone. But then, you chose not to listen anymore.

You told me before that you were not like others—that you wouldn’t leave me when I was struggling. You promised me that whenever I had a problem, I could approach you. That promise gave me hope, it gave me strength.

But now, I can’t help but ask: why? Why does it feel like you’ve become the very person you said you wouldn’t be? Why does it feel like you left me when I needed you most?

Despite all of this, I never doubted you. Not once. Even when my emotions were breaking me apart, even when I felt like I was losing myself, I still held onto the belief that you were different.

I never hated you. I was just disappointed, anxious, and heartbroken that someone who felt like home to me chose to walk away. I felt the avoidance, the silence, the ignorance, and the painful reality of not hearing from you again. And that hurt more than anything else.

Yet here I am, still waiting. Waiting for you—the person who once made me feel safe, the person whose presence gave me comfort. I still think of you, and when I do, I can almost hear your voice, feel your presence, and remember the warmth you once gave me.

"Even if life keeps moving forward, even if time keeps pulling us apart, I know I’ll carry these feelings until the day life itself decides when I stop breathing."

Because no matter what, you were, and still are, someone I can’t easily forget—like a butterfly that never truly leaves the garden, always circling back to the flowers it once loved.

Delicate yet unforgettable, carrying beauty in its silence and leaving traces of color in the air long after it has flown away.

This is how I will always remember you, Chiene. Not as someone I knew, but as someone who once made me feel safe, someone whose presence gave me comfort, and someone whose memory will always linger in my heart.