Letting Go Novels & Stories

He thought that love is about pushing things to happen, but then he comes to know that sometimes, love is letting go. It is cliché. He has heard this so many times already, but he only realizes its real meaning now. The purpose of letting go is actually refusing the person you love to hurt more. You are letting them go to be free from all the toxic things. One can never understand it unless they experience it. "But most importantly, you taught me to be comfortable with who I am." Gold smiles once more.

I just snub her and rolled my eyes. What's the point of fighting for love? If you only fight alone? Arice Point of View I saw Aeroll eyes rolling, then she leans again. I just look away while she continues on talking. " Letting go doesn't mean that you don't care about someone, Arice. It's just realizing that the only person you really have control over is yourself. " She said seriously. But Aeroll is right! I agree with her because letting go means to come to the realization that some people are a part of your history, but not a part of your destiny.

Ethan would wake in the dark with the sound of the ocean still in his ears, knowing there was no version of the past where he arrived in time. Claire had found her shore. And he had to spend the rest of his life learning how to live with the tide he let go.

The night before my flight home, my online dating partner texted me: [Tomorrow is our first anniversary. Shall we meet in person?] The moment that message appeared, the group chat filled with rich heiresses of the city that I had secretly snuck in exploded. [Congratulations, Wren! You’re at the last stage of your plan for revenge!!] Before I realized what was going on, a photo of me in my orientation days appeared in the chat. I was 340 pounds in the photo, my facial features were all squashed together, and my entire body was swollen beyond belief. “Whoa, Wren actually dated this piggy for one whole year all to seek revenge for Sean. Wren really loves Sean so much!” The group chat start

My parents died when I was young, so I grew up by my aunt’s side. What she did not know was that I had been secretly dating her best friend, Yvette, for three years. One night, after Yvette had too much to drink, she looked at me with her hazy eyes. “You should be with someone closer to your own age. How about I find someone for you?” I looked at her deeply and nodded. “Sure.” In my previous life, I refused. I even bravely proclaimed to the entire world that I loved her. Under pressure from her family, Yvette had no choice but to marry me. However, after we were married, she became almost completely indifferent toward me. Even on the day I underwent a heart transplant, Yvette was off s

A beaming sun lays warmth along highway forty-six and stagnating heat pours in through the windows. The glaring road winds ahead of her like something wild and free. It curves left and right, then left again, rising and falling with the hills. In that easy, thrilling yet relaxing way which evokes the sensation of riding a roller coaster. Gracie has driven this stretch countless times each time, resonating with it, her mind, body, and spirit experiencing cohesion in nature. The particular loosening which transpires with open roads, blue skies, hill views- minimal vehicles along the winding road. Nothing and no one asking anything of her. Just relax, breathe in the warm late summer air, marvel

I said softly. Her lips trembled. I slowly passed the child back into her arms. She held her daughter tightly, like she was afraid she might disappear. For a moment, my eyes lingered on them. Something flickered through my mind, quick and sharp, but I pushed it down before it could settle. I took a small step back. “Sometimes, letting go isn’t losing,” I said, my voice steady but low. “It’s the only way to protect what truly matters.” My gaze dropped to the little girl’s tear-stained face.

I felt the suffocating weight of being trapped. But then... something else happened. A strange kind of peace walked in. Because the moment I stop fighting what I cannot change, I finally make space for the things I can control. I’m letting go of the need for this to be perfect. I’m letting go of the need for this to look the way I planned. I am taking my hands off the wheel of things that don't belong to me, and I am putting them on the things that do—my thoughts, my actions, my joy, my peace.

I glanced at the crowd that was closing in, figured out the time in my head, and smiled happily. This time, they could no longer stop Dad from escaping.

“I also know who she is.” Her gaze flicked to me with something like sympathy. My heartbeat steadily, the anger I felt was giving me a strange sense of clarity. “I am leaving,” I said. Vanessa whirled back. “You are not going anywhere. I will not let you walk out after humiliating my son, my family, and now me. You have done enough damage.” “You have no idea what your son has done,” I replied. “Maybe ask him about his trip. Ask him who he went with.”