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Love is beautiful, but it’s also brave. It takes courage to fall, to trust, and to give a piece of yourself to someone else. But I’ve learned that sometimes the greatest bravery is not in holding on—it’s in letting go.
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I’ve experienced love in different forms, and each one has taught me something about myself, about others, and about what love really means.
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My first taste of “love” came in eighth grade. It was nothing serious—just puppy love. One relationship was only for show, and another ended when I caught him kissing someone else. Strangely, I didn’t feel much pain; I simply walked away. Then there was someone who seemed different. His mother even thanked me for helping him change his habits for the better. It was nice, but I knew in my heart that I didn’t love him. I chose to end it, because I didn’t want to stay in something that wasn’t real.
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In ninth grade, I met someone online—let’s call him Ace. We met through Roleplayworld, and slowly, I started to like him. Even without meeting in person, we built a connection. We video-called, shared stories, and eventually, he became my boyfriend. For a while, I was truly happy.
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But then, six months into our relationship, he disappeared. No explanation. I waited, thinking maybe it was an emergency. Four months later, he came back, and I welcomed him with open arms. But it happened again—he vanished, this time for an entire year. Still, I waited. And when he returned, I forgave him again.
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It wasn’t until I found his Instagram account—with another woman—that I finally understood. He was never truly mine. And that day, I chose to let go.
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Then came college, when I met someone new—let’s just call him RK. At first, I thought he was different. We shared everything, even though we only met online. But four months into the relationship, I discovered he already had another girlfriend. I was hurt, and even though I knew the truth, I let him explain.
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For some reason, I didn’t let go. He promised me that I was the one he truly wanted, that he had feelings for me long before he met her. Against my better judgment, I gave him a second chance. That second chance turned into five chances. Each time, he failed me. Each time, I forgave him. Until finally, I couldn’t anymore. I left him for good. He begged me to stay, but I didn’t accept him. For once, I chose myself.
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Not long after, another man entered my life—someone I had known even before Ace. We used to talk casually, and there was always something mysterious about him. Still, I felt comfortable. We stayed friends, though he often disappeared from Facebook only to return again. One day, he finally confessed his feelings, and I accepted.
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We tried, but our relationship was complicated. I had known him for eight years, and it turned into an on-and-off cycle. Slowly, I began to lose trust in him, and with every problem we had, he always blamed me. Arguments became routine, and his words grew sharper, more hurtful. I tried to explain my side, to settle things, but he remained angry. In the end, he told me it was all my fault our relationship kept falling apart.
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I let him speak, I let him throw words at me, until I finally grew silent. I told him goodbye—not with anger, not with hate, but with peace. I didn’t block him, even when he said I should, because I wasn’t mad. I had already moved on.
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What Love Taught Me
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Through these experiences, I discovered that love isn’t always about forever. Sometimes it’s about the lessons that shape us:
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🌹 Not everyone is meant to stay. Some people enter our lives only to teach us something, then they leave. And that’s okay.
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🌹 Honesty is better than pretending. If the heart isn’t in it, forcing a relationship is unfair to both sides.
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🌹 Patience has its limits. Waiting endlessly for someone who doesn’t choose you isn’t love—it’s self-neglect.
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🌹 Letting go is not weakness. Walking away can hurt, but it’s an act of self-respect and courage.
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🌹 Self-love must come first. The love you give yourself sets the standard for the love you accept from others.
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Not all love stories have happy endings. Some end in heartbreak, some in silence, and some in lessons we carry with us forever.
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Now, I’m happy with my life. Writing novels gives me the joy and freedom to escape from painful realities and immerse myself in the love I’ve always dreamed of.
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I’ve come to understand that the bravest way of love is not about how tightly you can hold on—but how courageously you can let go. Because in letting go, you don’t just lose—you grow.
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