At the same time, Daphne received an offer she’d dreamed of — a nonprofit job filled with meaning and growth.
I could never ask her to give that up.
We promised it was temporary.
Weekend visits. Long letters. Hope.
We believed love would bridge the distance.
Then, without warning, the letters stopped.
No argument.
No goodbye.
Just silence.
I wrote again and again.
One letter was different — raw, honest, full of love and patience.
I told her I would wait. That nothing had changed for me.
That was the last letter I sent.
I even called her parents and asked them to make sure she received it.
Her father sounded polite, distant. He said he would pass it along.
I trusted him.
Weeks turned into months.
Nothing.
Eventually, I convinced myself she had moved on.
That she’d found someone else.
That closure was something I’d never get.
So I did what people do when answers never come.
I moved forward.
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