There comes a moment in life
when the person who loved us the most
finally grows tired of carrying everything alone.
The one who understood without explanation,
forgave without pride,
adjusted without complaint,
slowly begins to disappear inside themselves.
Not because their love ended,
but because exhaustion reached deeper
than love could heal.
And strangely,
we understand their worth only after they leave.
The warmth in our days was their presence.
The peace we slept with was their patience.
The courage we carried was borrowed from their belief in us.
They were holding together parts of us
we never even noticed we were breaking.
Then one day the messages stopped.
The care becomes silent.
And silence teaches what love could never make us learn.
Absence is cruel that way.
It turns ordinary memories into sacred ones.
Suddenly we remember everything
the small check-ins,
the hidden sacrifices,
the way they chose us every single day.
Regret does not arrive loudly.
It settles slowly inside the heart,
teaching us the value of someone
only when reaching them is no longer possible.
Sometimes the only love left
is praying from a distance.
Praying they are happy somewhere.
Praying someone finally sees the softness in them fully.
Praying they receive the same love
they once gave without limits.
Because rare souls rarely know they are rare.
We do not cry only because they left.
We cry because we failed to make them feel
how deeply they mattered while they were still here.
Some people leave silently
after trying too hard for too long.
And after they are gone,
life continues,
but never with the same warmth again.
The heart learns through presence,
or it learns through absence.
But absence is the harsher teacher.
It shows us the value of love
only when our hands are empty.
By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
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