Quiet Endings

June 6, 2025

Unwritten & Understood

Moving on

It’s real.
Endings.
They hurt.

Sometimes it’s losing someone you love.
Sometimes it’s leaving a place you weren’t ready to let go of.
And sometimes, it’s saying goodbye to a person
you never wanted to let go of—
but knew you had to.

We all carry chapters that close.
Doors that don’t open again.
Final scenes that never got rewritten.

I used to crumble at the sound of “never again.”

Getting older doesn’t make the pain easier.
But it does make you steadier.
Wiser.

You learn that what’s meant to stay… stays.
And the rest?
It becomes part of the road behind you.
A part of the story—
but not the destination.

I used to think anything that mattered would announce itself.
That if a door was about to close, I’d hear the hinge moan.

But some things don’t warn you.
They don’t creak.
They don’t crash.
They just go quiet.

And the worst part?
You don’t realize what mattered
until it’s already folded into the noise of normal life.

Some things wait.
Some things knock twice.
But the rarest ones?
They don’t wait at all.

They arrive and fill a void you didn’t realize existed,
unexpected,
real—
and then they’re gone.

Not because they wanted to leave.
But because they had to.

And no,
timing doesn’t make something less true.
It only decides whether it’s remembered
or lived out loud.

And maybe…
maybe that’s mercy.

Because not all things are meant to last.
Some are just meant to wake you up.
To show you what it feels like to be alive,
And what it costs to carry it.