There comes a point where you get tired of holding onto half-promises, of clinging to the word maybe like it might one day grow into a yes. I’ve lived in that limbo, replaying excuses, waiting for things to change, hoping people would show up fully. But love and support isn’t meant to be a guessing game. This piece is my final release, my goodbye to almosts, my closure from someday. It’s the truth I needed to write down, not just for them, but for me.
There is a tenderness in endings
no one prepares you for,
the silence after the storm,
the quiet when you stop hoping,
the strange lightness of letting go.
I used to orbit your almosts,
hang on the thread of maybe.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe when things get better.
Maybe if I wait just a little longer.
But maybe is not a language of love,
it is a slow bleed,
a half-life,
a borrowed dream.
Today, I return it all.
The waiting.
The yearning.
The versions of me that bent themselves small
just to fit your uncertainty.
I place them down gently,
and I walk away whole.
I am done with maybe.
Done with empty promises
that taste like hope but starve the soul.
Done with waiting for someone
who could never meet me where I stand.
I am not a maybe woman.
I am not a someday love.
I am a yes.
A now.
A here.
And I deserve nothing less
than a heart that is sure of mine.
So this is the final release.
The curtain falls.
The chapter closes.
The door clicks shut.
And it is not bitter,
only clear.
Only true.
Only free.
I am done with maybe.
And finally,
I am home with myself.
Writing this was like unclenching a fist I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Maybe isn’t love, and I refuse to build my life on half-answers. This is me choosing myself, my wholeness and my certainty. If you’ve been carrying your own maybe person, I hope these words remind you that you are not a maybe, you are a yes, and you deserve a love that knows it too.
Maybe Was Never Enough
The Memory of a Maybe
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