What I Couldn’t Say Last Night

 I’ve decided to let my thoughts out again—there are just so many of them, all tangled up and overwhelming. It’s hard to write them down, even harder to speak them aloud.

It feels a little awkward that you—the person I now share my life with—had to read blog posts I wrote a year ago. Those posts were written in a different chapter of my life, one filled with pain, confusion, and a mess I thought I'd long buried.

This time, things are different. We're no longer strangers to each other. So when I saw your face last night as you read those words, I realized I should’ve looked more closely at how it made you feel. The hurt. The jealousy. The confusion. And you know what? I get it. Because if roles were reversed, I might’ve felt the same.

I can't justify those feelings, nor should I. They're real, valid, and I recognize them. It was never my intention to stir old emotions or create discomfort. But unintentionally, I think I did. And that thought worries me.

It was an awkward moment—one where I couldn’t just reach out, hug you, kiss you, and tell you that all of that is already in the past. Forgotten. Buried. The truth is, when I read those words now, I feel nothing. I barely even remember how I felt when I wrote them.

WEY:

I can’t erase who I was or the things I’ve been through. I can’t undo the past or pretend those moments never existed. But what I can do is show you what I’ve learned from them—that every mistake, every wound, every experience helped shape the person I’ve become today.

The beginning of us wasn’t easy for me. It felt uncertain, even uncomfortable at times. I had so many questions in my mind—about where I was heading, whether I was ready to let someone in, or if I was even capable of love again.

I wasn’t looking for anyone. I wasn’t searching for love, not even a second chance. My focus was on myself—my growth, my career, my goals. Then you came along… and everything changed.

Suddenly, the idea of “us” didn’t feel like a distraction. It felt like purpose.

There are things I never thought I could do—emotional leaps I thought I wasn't capable of. But with you, I’ve done them. And more than that, I wanted to do them. Not to prove my love to you, but to prove to myself that I can love fully and even better than before.

Even if our beginning was unconventional—even if I had to shift the very foundation of what I thought I wanted—loving you feels natural.

There are so many things I never did for anyone before, and now, they come so easily with you. There’s no fear. No doubts. No second-guessing. You’ve made me braver. You’ve made everything feel lighter.

I know storms will come. Life will throw its chaos at us. But this time, I don’t want to be behind you, watching you face it all alone. I want to be right beside you, holding your hand through everything.

I don’t worry about things falling apart—not because I’m afraid of another heartbreak—but because I can’t afford to lose someone like you.

You are rare.

You saw me—my soul—in ways no one ever has.