SORRY

I've counted every one of them.

Seven weeks of quiet. Seven weeks of typing something, deleting it, and putting my phone back down. And in all of them, not one single day where I thought about leaving.

I'm not counting to make you feel bad. I'm counting because every one of those days I chose you again, quietly, from here, without needing anything back.

I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.

• 🤍 I'm not leaving — not this week, not after this one.
• 🌱 You can take all the time you need. All of it.
• 🕯️ The silence doesn't scare me. I'll wait through it.
• 💗 There's no version of this where I give up on you.

I know I hurt you, and I'm not trying to talk my way out of that. I'm just staying. Right here, holding on to you, for as long as it takes.

You are worth every bit of the effort.

Some people you wait for. You're the one I'd wait for.

Not the easy version of you. Not the version that's okay with me. You, tired, upset, quiet, all of it. You were never the effort. You were always the reason for it.

And if it takes seven more weeks, or seventy, you're still worth it. That part was never a question for me.

Come back whenever you're ready.

There's nothing you need to explain to me, and nothing you need to figure out first. Whatever you're feeling is allowed, and it's yours to keep if you want to keep it. 🤍

You can just come back. A "hey" is more than enough. So is a voice note, or a silly reel, or nothing at all, just you, being here again. I'll be so happy to see your name, whenever that is.

Is there anything on your heart?

You really don't have to. But if something has been sitting in your chest for these seven weeks — angry, sad, messy, half-finished — you can leave it here. It comes straight to me, and I'll just listen. No defending myself, no reply unless you want one.

Thank you for trusting me with that. I've read every word — and I'm still right here. 💗