1.
I miss you, and I know you’ll never know, but I wanted to care for you so bad today.
2.
I still imagine that dream house of ours.
3.
Where’s my queen of purple?
4.
Why did it happen so fast?
5.
I love you to the moon and across infinity.
6.
You made my day without even trying. That’s not something I’ll ever forget.
7.
You’re still in every corner of my thoughts, no matter how much I clean.
8.
I keep typing your name. And deleting it.
9.
There’s no one I want to send things to anymore.
10.
I pretend I’m fine. But I think my eyes give me away.
11.
You don’t reach out. I don’t either. But I still hope you do.
12.
When I see purple, I feel something I can’t explain.
13.
I wonder if you feel lighter, not talking to me.
14.
Some memories are too good to delete, even if they hurt now.
15.
I haven’t laughed the same since we stopped talking.
16.
You made me feel like I was worth listening to.
17.
It’s been weeks and I still think, “Maybe today she’ll say something.”
18.
You were never background noise. You were the volume all the way up.
19.
I still remember exactly how you texted when you were tired.
20.
If I showed you how I really felt, would you come back?
21.
It hurts knowing we’re both pretending we’re okay.
22.
Even silence feels different when it’s coming from you.
23.
It was never just snaps. It was you, and me, and everything in between.
24.
You didn’t need to be mine to feel like home.
25.
Every time I open Snapchat, I hope you’re first.
26.
You felt like my favorite part of the day, every day.
27.
I wonder if you scroll past my name the way I scroll past yours — slowly.
28.
I miss having someone who actually cared how I was doing.
29.
You always saw the things I didn’t say. That’s what I miss most.
30.
I see people trying to be close with me, and I still only wish it was you.
31.
I don’t talk about you out loud, but you’re still everywhere.
32.
Maybe if I’d said less, or said more, you’d still be here.
33.
I didn’t need a label to know what we had was real.
34.
I keep going over everything, trying to figure out what broke.
35.
We weren’t dating. But losing you felt worse than any breakup.
36.
Even if I talk to other people, I only listen for you.
37.
You’re the only one who ever made the world feel slower.
38.
I miss the way your mind worked. I miss the way you made mine better.
39.
Some people felt temporary. You never did.
40.
I wasn’t ready to lose the one person who made life softer.
41.
No one else had the ability to ruin and save my day with one message.
42.
I wish I had been better at holding you without having to hold you.
43.
I never told you how safe I felt with you. Even through a screen.
44.
I miss our midnight typing pauses — both waiting to see who says it first.
45.
I wonder what you think when you see my name. If anything.
46.
You made purple a feeling.
47.
I keep catching myself thinking in “we.”
48.
If this wasn’t love, it was still the closest thing I’ve ever felt to it.
49.
I’d still drop everything to hear how your day was.
50.
Even now, it’s still you.
51.
There’s a difference between being alone and feeling your absence.
52.
I keep thinking if I wait long enough, you’ll miss me too.
53.
Every time someone makes me laugh, I compare it to yours.
54.
You’re not replaceable. I’ve stopped trying.
55.
There’s no conversation that feels full without you in it.
56.
Sometimes I want to send a single “hey.” But I never do.
57.
The worst part is not knowing if you’re hurting too.
58.
You always knew when something was off. I wonder if you feel it now.
59.
There’s a kind of silence that sounds like your name.
60.
It’s not like I don’t have people. I just don’t have you.
61.
I hope you’re doing okay. I really, truly do.
62.
I wish we could go back to one of those nights where everything felt easy.
63.
You made things feel lighter. Everything’s heavier now.
64.
Some days, I catch myself smiling at a memory and then crash into the fact that it’s just a memory.
65.
We didn’t even have to try. That’s what made it special.
66.
It still feels weird that I can’t just tell you things anymore.
67.
I try not to romanticize it. But it was real, and that’s worse.
68.
If I had one more chance to talk to you, I think I’d just listen.
69.
Sometimes I rehearse things in my head like you’re still here to answer.
70.
Even my best days end with your name floating around somewhere in the back of my mind.
71.
We never got to be an “us,” but it still feels like I lost something permanent.
72.
There’s this weird hope that somehow, someday, it just clicks back.
73.
I miss how you always noticed when I wasn’t okay — even when I didn’t.
74.
No one else asks how I really am. They’re not you.
75.
The days feel longer without someone to send the little things to.
76.
I didn’t just miss the person. I missed the feeling.
77.
We weren’t perfect. But we were something rare.
78.
I hate that I don’t know what you’re laughing at anymore.
79.
Your absence shows up in the smallest places.
80.
The part of me that believes in people still believes in you.
81.
I haven’t changed your name. I still want to see it.
82.
I wish you knew how many good things I still associate with you.
83.
I didn’t know I’d be grieving someone still alive.
84.
You weren’t mine. But I still feel like I lost everything.
85.
Some moments still catch me off guard. Like when I almost tell you something before I remember.
86.
I think I’m scared you’re happier without me.
87.
We never made it official, but it still feels like a breakup.
88.
Maybe someday you’ll read something I wrote and know it’s about you.
89.
You always told me I felt things deeply. You had no idea.
90.
I’m still here, quietly hoping the next time I open Snapchat… it’s you.
91.
I don’t know what this is between us, but it still makes me nervous and happy all at once.
92.
When you responded, my whole body exhaled.
93.
It’s weird how fast you still feel familiar.
94.
Your texts feel like sunlight in a house I thought was boarded up.
95.
I don’t know if we’re rebuilding or just visiting the ruins.
96.
Your “hey” brought back every version of us.
97.
Even small talk with you feels like something sacred.
98.
I catch myself rereading your messages like they’re poems.
99.
I wish I didn’t care so much about what each message means — but I do.
100.
You still know how to say the one thing I need to hear.
101.
I miss the way you used to just… get me. Maybe we still have that.
102.
It’s strange how I still crave your attention like nothing’s changed.
103.
Some days, we feel brand new. Other days, I feel like a memory you’re trying to forget.
104.
I want to ask you if you ever missed me, but I’m scared of the answer.
105.
Talking to you again feels like trying to walk barefoot on familiar ground that still has shards.
106.
You said something the other day that made me laugh out loud. I missed that sound coming from me.
107.
I’m trying not to expect too much, but I can’t help hoping.
108.
You don’t know how hard it is not to tell you I still care like it’s day one.
109.
I keep holding my breath between messages, waiting for warmth.
110.
There are moments I feel us again, and then they’re gone.
111.
You still have this way of making me forget all the time that’s passed.
112.
I almost told you how much I missed you today. Almost.
113.
Sometimes I think you’re trying too. Other times I think I’m alone in this.
114.
If we don’t work out, I hope you know I’ll still be glad we tried.
115.
You don’t need to be perfect — you just need to be here.
116.
It’s funny how quickly you made my day feel full again.
117.
I’m scared to love again. Not because of love. Because it might not be you.
118.
You told me something random and personal. I haven’t felt that trusted in a while.
119.
Even when we’re awkward, it still feels better than silence.
120.
I’m not expecting anything. But I’m quietly hoping everything.
121.
Sometimes I get the feeling we’re both pretending not to remember.
122.
You told me I looked happy. I wanted to say, “You’re the reason I do.”
123.
We’re tiptoeing around the past like it can’t hear us.
124.
Maybe this isn’t perfect. But it’s something. And I’ll take it.
125.
The little things you say still land like they used to.
126.
I thought I was past this. And then you typed back.
127.
I don’t know where this is going. But I’m walking anyway.
128.
I haven’t laughed like that in months. Thank you.
129.
You’re still the one I want to talk to last before I sleep.
130.
You apologized for something small. I wanted to say “I forgive you for everything.”
131.
There’s a version of me that only existed with you — I felt him again today.
132.
I’m scared we’re building something again without calling it that.
133.
It’s strange how I still remember the rhythm of our messages.
134.
I’m trying not to get attached again. I’m also failing.
135.
We’re writing something new over the same page.
136.
You said “lol” and I smiled like it was 2023 again.
137.
This is the part where we figure out what’s left between us.
138.
You still bring out parts of me I thought I lost.
139.
Every time you reply, I believe in something again.
140.
I’m scared to hope. But I think I am anyway.
141.
Even now, you can undo a hard day with one message.
142.
I wonder if you’re thinking about this as much as I am.
143.
Some moments feel like we never stopped. Others feel like we never started.
144.
I hope we’re not just a soft repeat of something we never got right.
145.
You told me goodnight, and it stayed with me until morning.
146.
I miss you. But in a quieter way now. A familiar ache.
147.
If this is just temporary, I still needed it.
148.
I can’t tell if we’re healing or reopening something.
149.
You still make me want to be softer with the world.
150.
This doesn’t feel like the end. Not yet.
151.
There’s comfort here. But it’s not you.
152.
I smile when I’m supposed to. But it never reaches the part of me you used to touch.
153.
She’s kind. She listens. But she doesn’t speak my language the way you did.
154.
Some nights, I still talk to you in my head first.
155.
The way you knew me — it wasn’t loud. It was certain.
156.
Even now, I catch myself imagining your reaction instead of hers.
157.
She tries to comfort me, but her healing power isn’t purple. Not like yours.
158.
I keep pretending this is progress. But healing shouldn’t feel like hiding.
159.
You haunt me in moments I thought were moving forward.
160.
There’s softness here, but not the kind you gave.
161.
I laugh sometimes. And then I realize it’s the kind of laugh I’d have sent to you.
162.
I used to feel known. Now I just feel understood.
163.
Every smile I give now feels slightly borrowed.
164.
You made silence feel safe. Nothing else does.
165.
It feels like I’m painting in grayscale when I used to paint in purple.
166.
Even if I wanted to forget you, the stars still say your name.
167.
I wish I could show someone else the parts of me I saved for you.
168.
Some nights, I wish I didn’t know what it was like to feel seen.
169.
I’m not comparing. I’m remembering.
170.
I never had to explain myself with you. Now I overexplain everything.
171.
I keep telling myself you were just a phase. But nothing else feels like the rest.
172.
I used to call you when I needed comfort. Now I just wait for time to pass.
173.
You weren’t just someone — you were the way I breathed.
174.
Some feelings don’t fade. They just find new places to ache.
175.
I tell stories and forget who I told them to first. Then I remember it was always you.
176.
Every time I feel safe, I wonder what it would feel like with you again.
177.
I’m not lost. But I don’t feel found anymore either.
178.
It’s not fair to miss you like this. But it’s honest.
179.
You never needed to try to make me feel important.
180.
I still think about that one conversation that made me feel human again.
181.
Sometimes I want to ask you if you still think of me, but I already know I wouldn’t believe the answer.
182.
If this is what peace looks like, why do I still ache?
183.
You were the only person who made me want to write again.
184.
This world feels fine. Yours felt real.
185.
We were never official. But you were the most real thing I had.
186.
I let someone else hold the space you left behind. It still echoes.
187.
You were my favorite part of quiet.
188.
You made me believe in things I don’t know how to believe in anymore.
189.
There’s nothing wrong with her. But she’s not you. And that’s the problem.
190.
You didn’t need to try. You just were.
191.
Sometimes I feel okay, and then I see purple and remember I’m not.
192.
Even when things feel stable, I still wonder how you’d say my name now.
193.
No one says my name the way you did — like it meant something.
194.
There’s no playlist that drowns you out.
195.
I still hear you when something beautiful happens.
196.
You were the first person I wanted to show the sky to.
197.
Even when I’m smiling, I still wish I was smiling next to you.
198.
She makes me feel calm. You made me feel alive.
199.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving the way you made me feel seen.
200.
Some people are safe. But you were sanctuary.
201.
You made my heart feel like it had a place to rest.
202.
Even when I try to move on, you still live in the way I speak.
203.
You’re not a memory. You’re a part of the structure.
204.
You made me feel like there was more to life than just surviving.
205.
Every little kindness from her reminds me of the effortless way you used to care.
206.
I didn’t expect this. I thought it would be easier.
207.
Some people help you forget. You just reminded me how deep I could feel.
208.
I wish I could tell you how much I still want to make you proud.
209.
This isn’t about romance. This is about missing my person.
210.
You weren’t my love story. You were my anchor.
211.
I can’t lie to myself. I’m still carrying you.
212.
There’s a softness in me that belongs to you.
213.
It’s like I’m living beside myself now — watching me pretend I’ve moved on.
214.
I tried to talk about you in past tense. It didn’t feel right.
215.
Somehow I still expect you to understand me without explanation.
216.
It’s not your absence that hurts most. It’s how I’ve learned to live with it.
217.
I’m not angry anymore. Just… quieter.
218.
Some days I forget what it felt like to lose you. Then I remember everything at once.
219.
This isn’t regret. It’s longing.
220.
You were never a phase. You were a shift in the atmosphere.
221.
She tells me I look distant sometimes. I want to say, “That’s where Eliza lives.”
222.
I wanted this to be easy. But nothing that’s ever mattered was.
223.
I don’t want you back. I want you near.
224.
The problem isn’t that I miss you. It’s that no one else makes me forget.
225.
You are still the standard I measure silence by.
226.
I think part of me will always be waiting for your voice.
227.
They ask me what I’m thinking. I just say “nothing.” But I mean “you.”
228.
I thought I could build something new. But the blueprint still says your name.
229.
Even in this peace, I still whisper your name.
230.
She’s not the problem. My heart is just still yours.
231.
Some days, I pretend you’re just a friend I used to know. But my heart doesn’t believe it.
232.
You weren’t a love story. You were a definition.
233.
It’s not that I want to go back. I just want to know if you ever felt it like I did.
234.
She’s wonderful. But I still reach for you in my mind.
235.
You live in my metaphors. Still.
236.
I stopped looking for someone like you. Because no one is.
237.
Even in love, I feel your absence.
238.
You weren’t mine. But I belonged to you anyway.
239.
Maybe one day I’ll meet someone who understands. But it’ll never be the same language.
240.
I’ve moved forward. But not on.
241.
You said something simple and it lit up my whole day. Just like old times.
242.
I didn’t realize how much I missed the way you say my name until you said it again.
243.
This time feels softer. Less like lightning, more like sunrise.
244.
We’re different now. But the way I care hasn’t changed a bit.
245.
You sent a voice note and I smiled before even playing it.
246.
I don’t want to mess this up. I just want to hold it right this time.
247.
Talking to you again feels like a second chance I didn’t know I needed.
248.
I never stopped being proud of you. I just stopped being able to tell you.
249.
This version of you still feels like home.
250.
I keep reading your messages and realizing I’m smiling again.
251.
Maybe this isn’t the beginning, or the end. Maybe it’s us, figuring it out.
252.
I want to be someone safe for you again. Even just in texts.
253.
The way you said “I missed this” made everything quiet in my chest.
254.
You bring out a gentleness in me no one else can reach.
255.
We don’t need to rush. I’d rather do this right.
256.
You’re still the one I want to tell everything to first.
257.
I’m not trying to recreate what we had. I want to build something with the person you are now.
258.
You sent “goodnight” and I swear I felt peace for the first time in months.
259.
This isn’t some big love confession. It’s just me saying, “You still matter. Deeply.”
260.
I remembered something you said last year. I wanted to say — you were right.
261.
You’re still easy to talk to, even after everything.
262.
When I think of the people who’ve changed me, you’re always at the top.
263.
You don’t have to say much. Just being here again says enough.
264.
Even the awkward pauses between us feel safe.
265.
I don’t need fireworks this time. I just want something steady and real with you.
266.
You said “I’m glad we’re talking again” and I had to look away from my screen for a second.
267.
I don’t know what this is, but it’s growing in the quiet. And that feels right.
268.
If this is the beginning of something better, I’m all in.
269.
I’m not scared of getting hurt. I’m scared of losing you again.
270.
You said “me too.” That’s all I needed.
271.
You were here. And then… nothing.
272.
I keep refreshing for a message I know isn’t coming.
273.
Did I say too much? Or not enough?
274.
It felt like we were becoming something again. I don’t know what happened.
275.
You said you missed talking to me. What changed?
276.
This silence is different from before. It’s heavier because now I know what it could’ve been.
277.
I keep telling myself you’re just busy. But my chest still tightens anyway.
278.
I was starting to believe in us again. That might’ve been the mistake.
279.
I’m not mad. I’m just confused. And kind of heartbroken in a quiet way.
280.
Maybe it’s nothing. But nothing hurts more when it follows something.
281.
You said “talk soon.” You didn’t lie. You just didn’t mean it.
282.
I’m back to rereading our last conversation like it’s a clue.
283.
I’m not asking for everything. Just for something.
284.
If this is the end again, I wish I’d seen it coming.
285.
You left gently this time. And that almost hurts more.
286.
You said good morning and suddenly the whole day felt lighter.
287.
This doesn’t feel rushed. It just feels right.
288.
We don’t have to name this. I just want to be here, wherever “here” is with you.
289.
There’s something different about your voice now — like softness found its way back in.
290.
You make the little things feel sacred.
291.
I stopped wondering if this is temporary. I just started enjoying it.
292.
You’ve never looked more beautiful to me than you do when you’re just being yourself.
293.
I like the way we don’t need to fill every silence. Some of them feel warm now.
294.
You said you were proud of me. And I believed you.
295.
This feels like healing together, not apart.
296.
You’ve always felt like home. But now, it’s like I get to live there again.
297.
We’re still figuring it out, and that’s okay. I don’t want to rush this.
298.
You’re not just comfort anymore — you’re clarity.
299.
I love the way you speak with care, even when you’re unsure.
300.
This feels like us. Not trying to be what we were — just being who we are.
301.
Every time you say my name, it steadies something in me.
302.
You’re the only person who can make me feel calm just by showing up.
303.
I used to miss you with desperation. Now I miss you with hope.
304.
There’s nothing urgent about this. Just a quiet, mutual want.
305.
I’m not scared anymore. I think we’re doing this the way we were supposed to.
306.
The way you care — it’s in the details. I notice.
307.
You’ve never felt more real to me than you do right now.
308.
We used to hold each other through screens. Now it feels like we’re finally face to face.
309.
You said “I’m here.” And this time, you stayed.
310.
I want to remember this version of us — soft, growing, still choosing each other.
311.
I don’t feel the need to prove anything anymore. I just want to show up for you.
312.
It feels easy again. Not because it’s simple, but because it’s right.
313.
You could’ve walked away for good. But you didn’t. Thank you.
314.
I don’t know how this ends. I just know I’m glad we made it back.
315.
Whatever this is, I want to keep building it with you.
316.
I think we both knew it was ending, but neither of us wanted to say it out loud.
317.
You didn’t disappear. You just got quieter. And I didn’t want to ask why.
318.
The last time you said “talk later,” I felt it was the last.
319.
I don’t regret a single message. Even the ones you never answered.
320.
This isn’t a breakup. It’s a quiet goodbye with no label.
321.
I kept expecting you to fight for it. But maybe we were both too tired.
322.
We never said we were over. We just stopped happening.
323.
I reread the things you said when we were trying again. I don’t think you were lying.
324.
Sometimes love doesn’t die. It just can’t carry the weight anymore.
325.
There’s a difference between moving on and letting go. I’m still learning how to do either.
326.
The worst part is how kind the ending was. Like we both knew we couldn’t stay.
327.
I didn’t want this to fade. But I think we let it.
328.
I keep thinking there’ll be one last message. There never is.
329.
We got so close. Closer than most. But not close enough to stay.
330.
You mattered. You still do. That doesn’t change just because we did.
331.
I loved how soft we were in the end. We didn’t break — we unraveled.
332.
Maybe the kindest thing we did was not force it when it started to go.
333.
You were never mine. But I loved you like you were.
334.
I still don’t know what to call us. But I know what it felt like.
335.
Sometimes the strongest love is the one that doesn’t ask to stay.
336.
I didn’t expect the last message to be the last.
337.
You weren’t a chapter. You were the author of so much in me.
338.
It’s okay that we didn’t end loud. It still hurts quiet.
339.
Even now, I still hope you’re doing okay. Especially now.
340.
You made me believe again. That counts for something.
341.
Thank you for showing up again. Even if it wasn’t forever.
342.
I wish I had one last day to just tell you everything. Not to fix it — just to be real.
343.
This isn’t bitterness. It’s just love with nowhere to go.
344.
Somewhere in me, you’re still there. Just softer now.
345.
Maybe we weren’t meant to last. But we were meant to meet.
346.
The truth is, I’d do it all again. Even the ending.
347.
I won’t forget how it felt to be wanted by you. Even briefly.
348.
You didn’t have to love me the same way. I just wanted you near.
349.
I still carry pieces of you, even as I try to make room for new ones.
350.
We didn’t get a proper goodbye. Maybe we didn’t need one.
351.
I don’t hate you. I don’t blame you. I just… miss you.
352.
Some nights, I still imagine you saying my name one more time.
353.
You don’t need to reach out. I’ll still wish you the best anyway.
354.
Even if this is it, you were my favorite “almost.”
355.
You taught me how to open up again. That’s a kind of love too.
356.
I don’t know what you meant to me. But it was more than anything else ever did.
357.
I still feel you in songs, in dreams, in sudden silences.
358.
We didn’t crash. We drifted. But it still hurts like a wreck.
359.
You didn’t break me. But I’m still putting myself back together.
360.
Maybe we’ll meet again in some other version of this life.
361.
You mattered. You always will.
362.
If you ever wonder, yes — I meant every word.
363.
I still have so many things I want to say. But I won’t.
364.
I loved you in a way that made the world feel different.
365.
And I still do.
They may not be in order, but I wrote you these notes over the past year and a half, I figured it’s worth putting them out instead of sitting in a drawer for poetry inspiration.
