My Pretty Purple Ribbon💜

My pretty purple ribbon, some may see you as nothing but a cheap thread, but to me you were far more.I kept you close, inventing excuses to carry you everywhere, finding reasons never to let you go. You were mine, and I cherished you. It’s been months now. Sometimes I catch you lying on the floor, looking ordinary, as if you were never once a prized possession. I tell myself to let you go, but somehow I still make sure you’re near. I remember the day you came into my hands, how happiness kept me awake that night. I prayed to God that if this feeling had no story, if it was only a passing illusion, then let me not feel it at all. Because I never believed in the point of liking someone...and yet you were the first to stir something I couldn’t name.Over time, the excitement softened. What was once a spark became something quieter, harder to define. And yet, I wonder...is it the ribbon that I’m talking about? Funny, isn’t it? A feeling so illogical, so fleeting, yet so precious. I tried to forget, but forgetting was useless. And again I prayed that if this was nothing, if it was only emptiness dressed as meaning, then let me not feel it at all. Sometimes I ask myself: what are these emotions I have toward you? Toward the ribbon? Toward what it represents? And now, as I finally begin to let go...accepting that our time together is almost up, that we are moving on then you came back. Not just into my thoughts, but into my life, undoing what I tried so hard to forget, making me face the truth: you were the first person I ever felt this way about, and that’s why it was so hard to understand.Maybe you did care, but only in fragments. Maybe you never knew how to share what you truly felt, or maybe you never thought I was someone worth showing it to. Perhaps the ribbon was the closest you came to saying what you couldn’t. Or perhaps I was only searching for meaning in something that was never meant to be more than a passing gesture.Before we say our goodbyes, I want to know, though I’m almost too afraid to ask but why did you give me that ribbon? Was it only a gift, or was it something more?I may never have the answer.I’ve accepted that we are moving forward. And yet, here you are again, and here am I —almost unwillingly smiling at the thought of your remembrance. Not just in memory, but in reality. Reminding me that even when I prayed not to feel what I couldn’t understand,you were the first to make me feel it. And still...I wonder.If this feeling is nothing morethan a fleeting ruse.

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