Some goodbyes are loud and painful. Others are quiet. They end without a fight, without a final speech, without a clear moment you can point to and say, &ldquo;That&rsquo;s when it was over.&rdquo; The world moves on like nothing happened, but inside, something still lingers. You tell yourself you&rsquo;ve accepted it. You say you&rsquo;ve let go. But deep down, there&rsquo;s still a small voice asking, "What if?"
What if things were different? What if the timing was better? What if one more conversation could have changed everything? Those questions keep the door slightly open. They make the goodbye feel temporary, like the story is paused instead of finished. As long as &ldquo;what if&rdquo; lives in your heart, part of you is still waiting. Still hoping. Still rewriting scenes that have already ended.
Sometimes, what we miss is not the person as they truly were, but the version we created in our minds. Memory is gentle. It softens the sharp edges. It highlights the good and blurs the reasons why it didn&rsquo;t work. We start to miss the comfort, the routine, the feeling of being chosen. We miss who we were when we were with them. And that longing can feel like love, even when the reality was more complicated.
A goodbye becomes real the moment we stop negotiating with the past. When we stop building alternate timelines and start standing fully in the present. It&rsquo;s not about forgetting. It&rsquo;s about accepting that some stories end without becoming what we hoped they would be. And when the &ldquo;what ifs&rdquo; finally grow quiet, that&rsquo;s when healing truly begins.