When We Meet Again

Some goodbyes don't sound like goodbyes.

Sometimes, they sound like “I'll see you soon.”

And sometimes, you believe them.

Until you realize that “soon” can become months. Months can become years. And a person who once felt like home can slowly become a stranger living somewhere inside your memories.

I learned that the hard way.

My name is ivy , and I used to believe that love was simple.

Meet someone.

Fall in love.

Stay together.

Happy ending.

I was eighteen when I realized life didn't follow stories the way I wanted it to.

That evening, I stood alone on the balcony of our small house, watching the sky slowly change from blue to orange.

The neighborhood was alive below me. Cars passed along the road. Children chased one another between houses. Somewhere nearby, someone was arguing loudly about the football news .

Normally, I would have laughed.

But that day, everything sounded far away.

My fingers tightened around the phone in my hand.

I'd read the words so many times that I already knew them by heart.

”Buttercup, I hope you love again "

Five words.

Five words that had managed to break everything I thought I knew.

I looked toward the road again.

A part of me still expected him to appear.

Maybe he'd come running.

Maybe he'd tell me there had been a misunderstanding.

Maybe he'd smile that familiar smile and say—

“Buttercup, I'm here.”

But he didn't.

He wasn't coming.

And somewhere deep inside, I knew it.

Still, I waited.

Because sometimes, hope is the last thing a person is willing to give up.

“Ivy!”

I quickly wiped my face and turned around.

My mother stood in the doorway, looking at me suspiciously.

“You've been standing here for almost an hour.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.”

She looked at me for a moment.

Then her eyes moved to the injury in my hand.

“What is that?”

I hid it quickly.

“Nothing.”

She sighed.

“Ivy…”

I looked away.

There were some things I couldn't explain.

How could I tell her that the person I thought would always be there had suddenly disappeared?

How could I explain that I wasn't only missing him?

I was missing the future I had imagined with him.

My mother walked toward me and gently touched my shoulder.

“Whatever you're going through,” she said quietly, “don't allow it to make you forget who you are.”

I nodded.

But I wasn't listening.

Because at that moment losing him meant losing everything.

Losing the trust, the smile, the childishness and peace I've built within me because of him

I didn't know then that when some people leave your life...

You get to have this empty feeling inside your chest that never goes away.

And I certainly didn't know that years later, I would get to see him again.

But by then, neither of us would be the same.

And that was where our story truly began.

Some good byes