My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, before I typed, "Heyy, A few days have passed, I just wanted to check in on you and ask how everything's going?"

The reply wasn't instant, but it came sooner than I'd dared hope. She told me about new shows, and movies she'd start watching, something light, funny, and above all, romantic. She always loved romance.

We exchanged a few messages, nothing heavy, nothing intense. It was the kind of small talk that felt strangely comforting. Though it didn't feel the same the first minute, it eventually felt like dipping toes into familiar water after drifting for so long.

After a while, I wrote,

"Anyways, if you don't have anything to share, then I'll give you space to yourself as you wanted. I'm here if you need anything, just text me okay?"

Her reply came slower this time, she left my message on read for 2 minutes. 

"I dont know," she wrote.

"A part of me doesn't want to talk to you..."

My heart dropped, but I remembered everything I reflected on. I waited, I gave her the space to say what she needed, I asked her, "What's on your mind?"

Then she opened up, hesitantly at first, "I realised how unhealthy this all felt for me,

How I woke up from what I used to feel,

and I stopped seeing you the way I used to."

Her words trembled, like fragile glass trying not to break.

Then, a pause.

"I don't know..."

"Milo... I just feel... I just feel stressed now."

"Okay no, like... maybe... we really shouldn't... talk about this."

I stared at her message for a moment, letting her breathe in silence. There was a time I might've rushed in, to reassure, to promise things I didn't know how to keep, to beg.

But not now.

So instead, I typed carefully, "Are you sure? You can still try Ria... If this is going to help it all off your chest, I'm here."

I gave her the reins, the control. All of them.

She led the pace, I followed gently.

And with every answer, I wasn't trying to win her back. I was trying to let her feel safe, because if I couldn't be her home anymore... I could at least be her little space of quietness, one last time.

I told her I understood why she felt the way she did.

Even if it hurt. Even if I still loved her...

I didn't tell her that part, I didn't need to. 

Love, in its truest form, doesn't always need to announce itself out loud. Sometimes, it just sits quietly in the room with you, nodding, listening.

There was a long pause. I didn't know if she'd reply again. But then, slowly, the typing bubbles returned.

She was taking this slowly, and I admire her for that.

She says one by one,

"I don't know what to say..."

"It's just... Milo... You're being so calm, so understanding. This sucks, because I always wanted this version of you... wouldn't it hurt if you were always like this?"

"Now, I don't know what to do."

I read her words a few times, carefully, even if my heart was also racing a little. Her words felt like a quiet ache, like someone standing in a room filled with memories they weren't ready to revisit, that they're scared that they would be hurt if they tried again.

And I didn't want to add any weight to her confusion, not anymore.

So I said, 

"It's okay to feel this way, Ria, You don't always have to have it all figured out. If you need a few more days, some more space, that's always open."

I didn't reach for anything, I didn't ask for her to reconsider. I let her sit in her silence, if she needed to, because this wasn't about me anymore.

I just wanted her to feel free to... feel.

Even if it meant I'd be the one walking away with nothing but closure... just for her.

I added, "Take your time."

We talked more.

She opened up, slowly, carefully, like peeling back a pomegranate. Each word like a seed, fragile and full of something bittersweet.

She told me about the things that used to bother her. Moments she didn't always voice back then.

I just listened. I didn't defend, nor fully deny. I only explained when she paused long enough for me to gently offer a piece of my side.

She deserved to be heard. I told her that no matter what this turned into, I was grateful. That none of it was wasted.

"Love, when it's true," I said quietly, "Is never wasted, even if it doesn't last forever."

Then came her pause, the pause that carried a decision behind it. 

"I've been thinking a lot," she said. "I think I want something that isn't long distance."

"I want to enjoy while I'm still young... experience more, grow more... before I'm in something serious again." 

I stared at the screen. The words didn't hit all at once. They all kind of just floated there, then sank.

For a second, I saw that peaceful night again...

Us, curled up in conversation with too much love in our eyes, seconds before we started dating.

Her whispering, "Long distance is always worth it... with the right person." Moments before she fell asleep mid love.

I swallowed hard, my heart sank. Not out of disappointment, but in pain, the soft, inevitable kind, the kind that accepts.

"Yeah..." I typed back as my eyes filled up with tears. "I get it Ria. Honestly, I really do."

And I meant it. Because this wasn't about what I wanted anymore. I was proud of her, for choosing herself.

There wasn't much left to say...

And yet, it felt like the hardest part was still ahead.

She was quiet for a while, I wrote, "I'm proud of you..."

I said, "Thank you for this, for everything really."

I felt my chest tighten, I didn't want to make her feel the weight of my sadness, so I smiled through the screen. I was going to say, "I know things didn't turn out the way we hoped... but I'll always be grateful for what we had." But my fingers froze, I didn't want to risk anything anymore.

Ria replied, "Thank you, for everything too."

I blinked away, the sting in my eyes. 

The chat fell silent after that. No dramatic ending, no sudden goodbye. Just silence. Like the closing of a book you loved too much to rush.

I closed my phone, but sat there for a while, phone still in my hand. Then I set it down.

Exhaled.

I felt... relieved, in a way.

Not because it didn't hurt, but because I honored what we had perfectly. I did what I always wanted to do, I understood her.

That night, I cried myself to sleep.

Not out of regret, but release.

Some love stories don't end in forever. Some just teach you how to become the person who can love better next time.

I'll never forget the endless nights we spent talking, the laughters that almost felt like it would just keep going. Those voice notes that always drives us crazy from each others voices. Every memory, every gift, every word shared between each other. It will never be wasted, especially from someone like her, someone like Ria.