Sometimes a person comes, turns everything inside out, leaves behind a few unpleasant memories—and then leaves.

And then you sit among this emotional mess and think, "Why did I even exist?"

I used to want to find meaning.

Not always now.

Not every story has to have a beautiful moral.

Some people simply become part of the journey.

With them, you learn that you can love. That you can make mistakes. That you can miss. That you can experience what once seemed impossible.

And then you move on.

Not a thank-you speech.

Not a desire to return.

Just move on.

I like that idea.

Because not everything lost needs to be sought.

Sometimes loss is just a signpost to a new path. 🛣️