Sometimes, in the quiet moments, I find myself drawn back to those few precious videos I have of you. I play them on loop, each frame capturing the warmth and sweetness that once defined our time together. It’s a small comfort, watching you laugh or share a quiet moment, feeling that familiar joy surface, if only briefly, when I see you on the screen.
I often wish you had let me capture more of those moments—those little snippets that held so much life. I never realized then how much I would crave the ability to revisit them, to hear your voice, see your expressions, and remember who you were. It’s like looking through a window into a life that was once so vibrant, now only alive in memory and old footage.
I understand you’ve moved on and that our paths have diverged completely. I’ve come to terms with the reality that I’ll never see you again. Still, it’s bittersweet to watch those videos and see glimpses of the person I once knew, the person who was so tender and kind. You changed so much over time, and that transformation is hard to accept, knowing I’ll never have the chance to know who you became or how you got there. I find myself longing for the version of you that was warm, patient, and gentle—the version that seems like a distant dream now.
But that’s the nature of life, isn’t it? Time presses forward, reshaping us, carving out parts that we never thought we’d lose. Though you’re gone from my world, these few cherished memories remain, grounding me in the beauty of what once was. Watching you in those moments is a small reminder of the kindness you showed me and the laughter we shared.
So, I find comfort in that slice of the past. It’s a quiet kind of joy, tinged with the sadness of all that’s changed. I’ll keep playing those videos now and then, holding onto the happiness they bring, and letting them remind me of a time when life felt simpler and connection felt easy.