I ain’t talking about missing someone.
I’m talking about foolish missing.
There’s a difference.
Because I can miss you and still know I can’t have you.
I can love you and still let you go.
I can remember your smile, your voice, your touch, the way you moved through my world—
and still choose not to let you back into it.
That’s missing. That’s love.
But foolish missing?
That’s when I know what you did and still make excuses for it.
When I know you broke my heart and I’m still asking why you had to leave.
When I know you disrespected me and I’m still trying to understand what I could’ve done differently.
When the truth is standing right in front of me, and I’m still searching for another truth that hurts less.
That’s foolish missing.
When he pays the bills, takes care of the house, does what he’s supposed to do— but he breaks your spirit when nobody’s watching.
You say, “But he does so much for me.”
Foolish missing.
When the sex is so good you start confusing pleasure with peace.
When the same hands that make you feel wanted are the hands that hurt you.
You say, “But nobody makes me feel like he does.”
Foolish missing.
When she takes your money and spends it on another man, but she still comes home, and you tell yourself, “At least she comes home.”
Foolish missing.
And I’m not calling you a fool. No.
I’m calling the choice foolish. I’m calling the attachment foolish.
I’m calling the moment when you abandon yourself just to keep somebody else.
That’s foolish missing.
Because sometimes you can miss somebody without needing them.
Sometimes you can love somebody without belonging to them.
Sometimes you can look at somebody you once called home and realize— home ain’t supposed to hurt like that.
So let them go. Let him chase his dreams. Let her choose her path. Let the memories remain memories.
You don’t have to hate somebody to stop loving them the way you used to.
You don’t have to forget somebody to move forward.
You can miss them. God knows you can miss them.
But don’t miss them so much that you forget yourself.
Because I’ve missed people. I’ve missed places. I’ve missed moments. I’ve missed the person I thought somebody was.
But I refuse to miss anybody so foolishly that I invite them back to destroy the peace I fought to find.
That’s the difference.
Missing someone is human.
Foolish missing is losing yourself trying not to lose them.
And maybe— maybe being a fool for love is something we can understand.
Because love can make you blind. Love can make you hopeful. Love can make you stay when every part of you is screaming, “Go.”
But wisdom?
Wisdom is when you can whisper, “I still love you.” “I still miss you.” “I still remember everything.” “But I choose me.”
That’s not foolish. That’s freedom.
That’s love finally learning where it belongs.
And sometimes the person you miss is the very person you had to lose so you could find yourself.
Letters from Xhale the magazine Words that breathe. Stories that Linger, 