I hope I can finally fall in love with your absence.

I hope I don’t love you anymore.

I`hope it’s bright and sunny in your part of the city,

and that you left the illusion of “us” long ago.

I hope I can do the same. Someday. Soon.

I hope your name no longer tightens my chest.

I hope I stop looking for you in the corners of cafes

and the shadows of places we once knew.

I hope I stop writing you letters on the back pages of my diary —

and lose the urge to tear out those love-soaked confessions.

I hope I don’t crumble in the cereal aisle

because the world still feels too full of you.

I hope I find the strength to let you go.

I hope I stop remembering the sound of your voice

in the quiet hours before sleep.

I hope I no longer dream of the version of you

who might have stayed.

I hope I forget the way your laughter

once felt like sunlight breaking through rain.

I hope we never stumble upon each other again—

and hope love finds you, in all its wild glory,

without me ever having to hear about it.

And maybe, one day,

I’ll hope for nothing at all.

I believe this is what healing must look like- not forgetting, not replacing, not erasing, but reaching the place where hope no longer needs your name to exist.