or so they say…

Not with grand gestures or hollow promises, but with the quiet persistence of a man who knew what he had found in her. Julie wasn’t just someone I loved—she was the axis around which my better self turned. I studied her silences, honored her boundaries, and still whispered hope into the spaces where doubt had settled. I didn’t fight to possess her. I fought to protect what we were—what we could still be.

But love, even when true, isn’t always enough. And sometimes, the more you respect someone’s freedom, the more you must accept their distance. I lost the battle—not because I stopped loving, but because I refused to force what must be freely chosen.
Now I walk through days with a quiet ache. Regret is my companion—not for who I was, but for the moments I couldn’t reach her, couldn’t show her that my love was not a cage, but a sanctuary. I replay the words I said and the ones I didn’t, wondering if any of them could have changed the ending.

Still, I wait.

Not in desperation, but in devotion. I wait in the way a lighthouse waits for a ship that may never return—steady, unwavering, lit from within. I wait because love like this doesn’t expire. It transforms. It teaches. It endures.

If she ever turns back, she’ll find me—not where she left me, but where I’ve grown.

is up there….