Some loves break you.
Some loves build you.
And some loves leave —
So you can learn how to come back to yourself.
I stared at Kiaan's text for a long time.
"Can we talk?"
I typed a reply.
Deleted it.
Typed another.
Then I just called him.
My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone.
But when he picked up, his voice was steady.
Soft.
"Hi, Aria."
We met at the park where he first kissed me.
I almost didn't recognize him at first.
His hair was longer.
He looked tired.
But his eyes —
They still held that same quiet kindness.
That same ache.
We sat on a bench, not speaking for a while.
Until finally, Kiaan broke the silence.
"I'm sorry I left."
I swallowed hard.
"I'm glad you did."
He flinched, but I shook my head.
"I don't mean it in a bad way. I just — I needed to break. I needed to hit the bottom."
I looked at my hands, picking at the skin around my nails.
"I needed to lose you," I whispered, voice cracking. "To realize I was the one I kept losing."
He didn't speak for a long time.
And when he finally did, his voice was thick with emotion.
"I wanted to come back," he said. "Every day, I wanted to come back. But I didn't know if I'd be helping you or hurting you more."
I turned to face him, tears blurring my vision.
"You didn't hurt me, Kiaan," I said. "I was already hurt. I just used you as a bandage."
His chest rose and fell in a shaky breath.
And when he looked at me, I saw it —
The love that never left.
The hope he was afraid to hold onto.
"I loved you," he said quietly.
"I still do."
I broke then.
I didn't sob or collapse.
I just leaned my forehead against his shoulder and cried as quietly as I could.
He didn't pull me closer.
He just let me fall apart — and held the space for me to do it.
We talked for hours.
About the nights we spent missing each other.
About the therapy sessions that gutted me.
About the poems I wrote when I thought I'd never see him again.
By the time the sun started setting, I felt hollowed out — but lighter.
Like we'd finally dug out all the rot.
Like we could breathe again.
Before we left, Kiaan touched my hand.
Just barely.
Just enough to make my heart lurch.
"Are we…" He swallowed. "Are we okay?"
I smiled, wiping my face with my sleeve.
"We're something," I said. "I don't know what yet. But we're something."
He nodded, eyes shining.
And this time, when we walked away —
We didn't look back.
Because we both knew we'd find each other again.
When we were ready.