My dear,
I remember the moment you believed you had found him.
That look. That voice. The butterflies.
The ones that are sometimes born from chemistry,
and sometimes from your longing to finally belong to someone.
He was attentive. Smiling. Polite.
Mature enough to seem stable.
And in his arms, for the first time, you felt
as if you didn’t have to pretend to be strong.
You thought: “Maybe this is it. Maybe I’ve finally found someone I can breathe with.”
But, sweetheart…
Butterflies fly away.
And there shouldn’t be emptiness left behind.
What should remain is a partner.
The one who celebrates your successes, even when he’s not part of them.
The one who doesn’t run when you are sad, tired, or lost,
but offers you his hand and says:
“We’ll get through this together.”
The one who holds you in a way that makes your body believe
everything will be alright.
Not with words. With an embrace.
I know you tried.
I know you justified.
I know you told yourself:
“He’s not perfect, but who is?”
“I don’t need much.”
“Maybe I’m expecting too much.”
But you weren’t.
You were expecting what every woman deserves.
Presence. Trust. Respect.
Shoulders you can lean on.
Not ones where you’re always the support.
I know you thought time would make it better.
That he would remember his promises.
That your giving would one day be returned.
But time is not always a remedy.
Sometimes, it is a mirror.
And now you know what you didn’t then:
Love is not a feeling. Love is behavior.
And so, when one day a young woman comes to you and says she feels butterflies…
you will look at her gently and say:
“Butterflies fly away, my dear. Look for the one who stays.”
Yours,
the one who no longer searches for the wind,
but for roots.
