Silent Echoes

Unspoken Truths

I saw her again today. Not in person, but through the fragments of her life she shares with the world. She looks happy. Lighter, somehow, like a weight has been lifted. She posts pictures with friends, the sun casting soft shadows on her face, her smile wide and effortless. The kind of happiness that once belonged to us.

I’ve spent too many nights wondering if I’m chasing ghosts, or if this feeling, this weight in my chest, is real. What does it mean when someone looks so whole without you? Does it mean they’ve healed, or are they just better at hiding the cracks? I know her, or at least I thought I did. There’s always more beneath her surface, layers she keeps tucked away from everyone, even herself.

I try not to think about her, but my mind betrays me in the quiet moments. Like now, when the world is still, and I’m left alone with my thoughts. I wonder if she ever thinks of me, if the silence between us is just as deafening for her. Does she scroll through old pictures the way I do, lingering on moments we never captured in words? Or has she moved so far past it all that the past feels like another lifetime?

We were different, her and I. That was the beauty of it—our differences felt like pieces of a puzzle, somehow fitting together. But life, in its strange way, pulled us apart. She needed to find herself, she said, to grow into the woman she was meant to be. And I, in all my love for her, let her go. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

But here I am, still holding on. Still wondering if I was ever a part of the person she’s becoming, or if I’m just a memory she’s tucked away, forgotten.

I know I should move on. It’s what everyone says, isn’t it? Time heals. Distance helps. But what no one tells you is that the memories linger like echoes, faint and haunting, refusing to fade no matter how far you run. And maybe, just maybe, I’m not running. I’m stuck, held in place by something bigger than the two of us. A connection I can’t fully explain.

We never spoke much after she left. Even when we did, it was like we couldn’t find the right words. There was too much between us, too much to say, and somehow, that made it impossible to say anything at all. But every time I see her, even through a screen, the silence speaks for us. It tells me she’s not as far away as I think. That maybe, somewhere deep down, she’s still holding onto something, too.

And maybe that’s just it—the hope, the quiet desperation that clings to me. Maybe it’s insane to think she still feels what I do. But then, the way she looked at me before... those eyes could never lie. They spoke in ways neither of us ever could.

Maybe one day, when our paths cross again, we’ll know.