The funny irony.
On this exact date last year, I was introduced to someone.
On the same date, a year later, we talked about quitting.
And today—exactly one year from that—I wrapped it up.

I never planned it. Never.

It’s funny how it makes me feel sad and liberated at the same time.
I’m not the same me who landed here last year—naive, scared shitless of whatever life would throw at her.
That me has grown. Learned to carry suffering, to hold pain, to take every lesson life throws her way.

Even now, there’s a melancholy running deep inside.
And still, I’m asking the cosmos—this ending, this termination—what’s next?
Bigger? Better?
Because I’ve learned: when something is snatched away, It’s never just cruelty. It’s a sign.

Something else is coming. Something better.
That’s why this had to go.
That’s why it had to be taken away.