You’re Allowed To Miss Him, But You Have To Let Him Go

Derrick Freske
Derrick Freske

You are allowed to miss him. There is no doubt to that, my love. Don’t prohibit yourself to feel this just because you think it will hurt you.

Sometimes, pain is necessary. And sometimes, escape is not the answer.

Those eyes – I know you miss staring at them so much. How they sparkle every time he talks to you. How they shine when he talks about his passions and dreams or the best things that happened to him that day. How they look into you like they can see right through your being, right through your soul. How they seem to be created simply to ignite something in you.

That smile – yes I know, you want to see his smile again. How it brightens up your day, even the darkest of those days. How it keeps you going even when you feel like ending this life is the easiest way for you. How it makes you realize how little, effortless things can mean so much to a person. How it gives you a little bit of hope that this world is beautiful, that it still can be saved.

Those text messages and simple notes – oh boy, how you want them back. How they once contained his confessions of adoration and concern and love that never failed to make you smile. How they cheer you up in the times you thought you can’t ever stand back up. How they hold the words of a boy who never knew that his words meant almost everything to you. How they make you feel loved even when the world seems to make you feel otherwise.

That voice – of course, you miss this; of course, you wish you would’ve recorded every single conversation you two had. How it’s like the beautiful melodies created from the most harmonic instruments. How it gives you goosebumps and shivers like how classical music, of Beethoven’s for example, does to you. How it sounds like the waves – soothing, tranquil, safe, and warm.

Those moments – of him being near you, of him at your sight – these you miss the most; these you wish to go back to and relive. How they make you feel like you’re wrapped around your favorite blanket, making you feel like the safest person in the world. How they were filled with smiles, glances, laughter and joy which brought you to cloud nine’s and worlds of ecstasy. How they make a big part in your life like they planned to engrave something in you ever since the first day. How they remind you of the beauty in this world even when you are starting to give up on looking for it.

My love, it is okay to miss him. Go think about him for a few seconds. Go liberate yourself for a while. Go feel pain and yearning and regret for some time.

But afterwards, don’t forget to wipe those tears. Don’t forget to find your missing piece and fix what’s broken in you. Don’t forget to stand back up after falling.

Remember to smile and believe that this world is yet to give you the one you’re destined with, the one who wouldn’t just patch up the wounds but actually heal them.

Because, love, those eyes may have ignited you but they burned you as well.

That smile may have given you hope but you missed seeing the fact that the world is full of it, only if you’ll open your eyes.

Those messages and notes may have made you feel loved but it’s you who are capable and responsible of loving yourself wholly, unconditionally, perpetually.

That voice may have sounded like the waves – tranquil, safe and warm – but someone out there is going to envelop you in their arms, protect you with all their might and never ever let you go.

Those moments with him may have made you realize the beauty of this world but you are yet to discover what the world has more to offer – better, more beautiful ones.

You are allowed to miss him, my love. But then you’ll have to accept the fact that they’re all over. Next, you’ll have to let these memories slip from your palms, free them from your mind.

Then, you’ll have to seal them in the darkest and most hidden corners of you.

Lastly, you will have to let them go.

You will have to let HIM go. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Myrra blogs, reads, writes, and feels too much… or sometimes, not at all.

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