Today, I can finally say with pride: I have completed the 100-day challenge after our breakup. If I count from that day, it has actually been longer. But I only dared to start this challenge three weeks later—after my tears dried up, after I felt I had fallen enough, lost enough, and gone numb enough.
At first, I was like a walking corpse. Every day felt empty. I ate without feeling full, breathed but felt suffocated, slept but was haunted by nightmares of you. I laughed bitterly—how could someone I once thought was just a small part of my life turn out to be so big that your departure felt like it took away part of my soul?
Days passed, and slowly, I learned to stop searching for your name, stop checking your social media, stop wondering if you were struggling as much as I was. I tried everything—deleting photos, burning memories, distracting myself with new hobbies, reconnecting with old friends. At one point, I even thought about disappearing, but I knew it was just a fleeting thought from someone who had lost balance.
I wrote your name down and tore it to pieces, typed out long messages only to delete them, imagined us getting back together and then laughed at my own foolishness. Until finally, I realized that forgetting doesn’t mean erasing—it means accepting. And with acceptance, I could finally breathe again.
Now, I can say, “Yes, I’m okay.” Not as a facade, not to convince others, but because I truly feel it. I no longer search for traces of you, cry over our memories, or hope.
After all my efforts to forget you, I finally understand: I don’t have to forget—I just need to accept that you are a part of my past, a story that has already been written and completed. And with that, I can finally say, “Thank you for being here, and goodbye.”
