I won’t ever see you again.
We broke up years ago, yet somehow, he remained in my life. Why? It’s a question I avoided for the longest time, but the truth is simple: I wasn’t ready to let him go completely. Those quiet, unobtrusive moments — the yearly check-ins, the “How are you?” messages, the obligatory “Happy birthday” texts — were my way of keeping a small piece of him around. A soft tether I wasn’t brave enough to cut.
But with Chinese New Year approaching, I’ve decided it’s time to let go. The usual list of superstitions I’ve followed all my life is still there: don’t wash your hair on the day, don’t mop the floor, and don’t buy new shoes until at least a week after the celebrations. Yet this year, I’ve added a new one of my own: cutting ties with the people I should’ve let go of a long time ago.
In the span of a few weeks, I’ve said goodbye to three people.
The first was my first love, someone who once held a significant piece of my heart. For years, I clung to the remnants of what we had, even after it ended. We weren’t romantically involved anymore, but I kept him in my life because it felt familiar, like a safety net I had no right to have in the first place. Saying goodbye to him, though, didn’t hurt the way I thought it would. It felt like a breath of fresh air — like finally letting go of something that had quietly weighed me down. I realized I’d been ready to let him go for a long time, and once I did, I felt lighter, freer.
The second was a friend I’d known for years, someone I cared for deeply but who started treating me like an afterthought. I was always the one showing up, always the one giving more than I received. For so long, I excused their behaviour, telling myself they had their own struggles. But I reached a point where I couldn’t keep making excuses for someone who didn’t value me. Letting them go hurt more than I expected — it felt like mourning the loss of someone who was still alive. But I’ve learned that holding on to someone who doesn’t care for you hurts even more.
“It’s better to choose being alone than to be left alone.”
The last was a fleeting “love,” though I’m not sure if that’s the right word. Whatever it was, it burned bright and fast — brief but intense, like a spark that couldn’t catch fire. For a moment, it felt like something I could hold onto, but deep down, I always knew it wasn’t meant to last. Our final hug and kiss were a silent goodbye, a mutual understanding that we’d carry the memory but leave the rest behind.
They say when someone no longer has a place in your life, you stop seeing them everywhere — not because they’ve disappeared, but because you’ve stopped looking for them.
“Happy birthday” — I won’t call.
“Happy New Year” — I won’t call.
“I’m happy for you” — I won’t call.
“I’m proud of you” — I won’t call.
I will always wish you the best, but we will never see each other again.
None of this was easy. Each goodbye felt like ripping off a bandage, exposing a wound I wasn’t ready to deal with. But as the new year approaches, I know it’s time to heal. It’s not about anger or resentment — it’s about freedom. It’s about setting myself free from the weight of unfinished goodbyes and unbalanced relationships.
I’m ending this on good terms. And this time, I mean it.
