Every heartbreak has a story. “Letter to My Ex” invites you into the reflective hearts of people who’ve loved, lost, and grown—offering gentle truths, bold lessons, and encouragement for anyone navigating the aftermath of a relationship. These weekly letters are full of grace and grit, showing how endings shape wisdom and how the past still holds power to teach. From understanding closure to embracing self-love, each piece is a tribute to growth through love, loss, and lived experience.
Paul (*not his real name), a journalist, pens this week’s heartfelt Letter to My Ex.
Carol, I have wrestled with the thought of writing this letter for a long time. Today, I finally chose to let my thoughts breathe on paper.
Perhaps it is for closure.
Perhaps for understanding.
Or maybe it is simply because what we shared still deserves honesty.
When we first met, fresh from university, wide-eyed and uncertain, we were two newcomers trying to find our footing in a world that moved too fast. Somehow, amid the confusion of deadlines and meetings, we found each other. You were my calm in the noise, and I was yours.
We learned together, grew together, and leaned on each other when the day felt too heavy. Lunch breaks became our small escapes; simple meals, laughter over shared frustrations, and conversations that stitched us closer with every passing day.
Evenings meant walking out of the office side by side, catching the same bus home, the city fading behind us as our words filled the air. Those rides felt endless, but in the best way, like time itself paused just for us.
Somewhere between those moments, friendship quietly bloomed into something deeper. Love didn’t come crashing in; it arrived softly, like dawn light creeping through curtains. And for a time, everything felt right. We fit into each other’s lives as though it had always been meant that way. I believed we were unbreakable. I believed we would keep growing.
But love inside the walls of the same workplace is a fragile thing. What once felt effortless began to feel heavy. Small misunderstandings turned into storms. Jealousy crept in, disguised as concern. The laughter that once echoed through our calls turned into silence. Even our colleagues could tell when the distance between us widened.
Still, I tried to hold on, to fix what was breaking. I fought for us because I believed we were worth fighting for. But you, it seemed, had already stopped reaching back.
You found time for everyone else but me. You ignored my calls, brushed off my messages, and met my worry with excuses. It hurt to watch the person who once made my world feel so alive become a stranger standing right beside me.
And then came the day you didn’t seem to care when I needed you most. That was the final crack, the moment I knew I had to walk away, even if it meant walking into the unknown. So I did.
Two years passed in silence, and then suddenly, there you were again, reaching out, as if the past could be rewritten. I still don’t know why. I had already given my best when it mattered most. I stayed long after the warmth had gone cold. I loved you when it was no longer easy to love you. So I can’t help but ask, why now? Why reach for me when everything that held us together has already turned to dust?
Maybe this letter won’t give you answers. But at least now, you have my truth, unfiltered, unhidden, and whole.
Some stories don’t end with bitterness; they simply end. And this, I suppose, is mine.
—Paul
Everyone has a story about love, loss, or heartbreak worth sharing. If you’ve ever wanted to say the things you couldn’t—apologies, closure, gratitude, or truths—to someone from your past, we invite you to write to us. Your real, heartfelt letter might offer healing or understanding to someone else who has been through something similar. You may remain anonymous if you prefer, but your words matter. We don’t pay contributors, but we believe in the power of shared experiences and emotional honesty. Join us in creating a collection of letters that explore love, lessons, and letting go. Be part of this movement.
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