Sunny Side Up♡

_Epilogue_

Before I let you go, I want you to know that every moment spent with you was a treasure that I held close to my heart.

I thought you were an answer to the quiet prayers of my soul, the melody to the song my heart had been singing silently. I thought you were my light in my darkest days, a reason for my small smiles that sometimes graced my life. But I never knew how heavy silence could feel until I faced it without you. And now, every day stretches on, shaded with the weight of missing what was never truly mine.

The dreams I built around us crumble a little more with each passing day, whispering what could have been. My heart feels so tender, so bruised with the realisation that some paths are meant to be walked alone. As I step back now, I carry the bittersweet memories that will never grow old. Every day, they fade into the quiet background of my life, and when someone you loved becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure.

One day, I know I'll move on, but I fear you'll always hold a piece of my heart that will never fully be mine again. I'll live my life, find reasons to smile, and everyone will think you didn’t shake me—break me. But they’ll never know that I’ll never truly be free.

I used to believe in the sunny side of everything, always choosing to see the warmth, the light, the hope. I thought love was like an egg cooked sunny side up—soft, golden, safe, with the promise of something bright to hold onto. But now I see the other side. The part that burns if left too long, the part that turns bitter when the heat is too much. I was flipped over, left to sizzle in the betrayal, and all that’s left of me is the burnt remains of what I thought love was.

And as I press the blade against my skin, as the pain blooms like a flower made of fire, I realise—maybe I was never meant to stay on the sunny side. Maybe some hearts are just meant to break, over and over, until nothing is left but the ashes.

Love. Once, it felt like sunshine—warm, golden, something to wake up for. Now, it feels like an illusion, like the sun on a cold day—bright but distant, light without warmth. I used to think love was enough, that if you held on tightly, it couldn’t slip through your fingers. But now, I know love can shatter in your hands, leaving you bleeding, wondering if you were ever holding it at all.

I don’t know if I’ll love again. Maybe one day. Maybe never. Right now, the idea of love feels like staring at a flame after being burned—something I can’t touch, something I can’t trust. Maybe love was never meant to last. Maybe it was just meant to be a fleeting warmth, a momentary sunrise before the night takes over.

> To be continued <