“Love doesn’t expire. Neither does the ache it leaves behind.”
People will ask if you’re better now. They’ll wonder if you’ve moved on.
But what if love doesn’t work like that?
What if missing someone is just another way the heart says, 'I still remember. I still care.'
There is no finish line to love. And grief is love’s echo — messy, sacred, lingering.
You don’t have to tuck it away. You don’t have to rush into healing just to make others comfortable.
Missing them doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It means you’re human. It means your heart once held something beautiful.
You’re allowed to speak their name. To cry again when you hear their favorite song. To smile at memories, and then feel the sting that follows.
That’s not weakness. That’s devotion.
Let this be your permission: You never have to stop missing them. You just learn how to carry the missing more gently.
Close your eyes. Place your hand on your heart. Say their name softly — once, twice, or however many times it takes to feel a thread of connection. Let your breath rise and fall around their memory, like waves returning to shore.
Light a candle for them today. As it burns, whisper one thing you loved about them. Let the flame be a symbol — their light still flickers here.
Darius N. “I used to hide my grief because people would get uncomfortable. But this helped me reclaim my memories. I speak her name now. I let the tears come. I even laugh sometimes when I talk about her. That’s healing too.”
Missing them means they mattered. You don’t need to apologize for that.