I've lost love in places that felt like forever at the time, watched sunsets burn into memory on quiet streets we once called ours. But you don’t stay in those places forever; life asks for more, and memories drift into the past like ocean waves at dawn.
I've learned that love leaves its mark, but it doesn’t bind you. Every loss carves out more space to fill with the sights and sounds of new places, fresh breaths in unfamiliar air. I’ve walked through cities where no one knows my name and found freedom in the simple wonder of not knowing what tomorrow brings.
It’s in these moments, with the weight of the past lifting, that life opens up again. You find yourself letting go of the need to understand every feeling, every goodbye. You start to live for the thrill of a new path, a new voice, an unplanned morning.
I carry no regrets, just traces of where I've been, proof that I was there, that I loved deeply enough to remember it now. And even if I feel the sting of lost love sometimes, I’ve learned that the world has far too much to show to spend my days in sorrow. So here’s to the wanderers, the seekers, the ones unafraid to let go and make room for more - may we all find love in the places we least expect and let life surprise us, over and over again.