When You Love Something Let It Go Novels & Stories

he clenched his fists. I sighed. I placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s about you not willing to let her go, isn’t it?” Janus tightened his jaws. “It's nothing like that,” he said, looking away. “Jan, you know over these two lifetimes I have learnt a very important thing. If you truly love someone, you let them go. You don’t cage them or bind them, you set them free. If the two of you are meant to be, they will return and if not… at least you will not have regrets of hurting them while trying to shackle them with yourself.”

It's really troubling. I started to go around looking for the figure of this beautiful fairy charmer. Ah, Nia! I love you but I also know you don't love me. What is the meaning of my love for you if you have already set your heart for someone else. You've taught me a lot so far, one of which is the level of loving someone is to let it go. And I love you so that's why I let you be with him.

He looked at my features and said softly, "He looks exactly like Noah." When Dad woke up, he ignored Grandpa and Granny's attempts to stop him and staggered over to me, gently holding my hand. My right hand, which had been clenched shut the whole time, finally opened to reveal a small stone in my palm. It was a lucky charm made from an ordinary rock. Faintly carved on it were the words, "Dad, I love you." This was the last gift I gave to Dad. When Dad saw the lucky charm, he burst into tears. He gently kissed me and said, "Ben, in the next life, would you still want to be my child?"

She hops off the counter and walks out of the room. I wish it were that simple, I wish I could just let her go. But there’s this saying if you love someone, let them go. If they return, they're yours forever. But I would like to change that, if you love someone, you never let them go.

He dropped to his knees in front of me again, begging me as everyone watched. I laughed and told him that his knees really weren't worth much, but I didn't agree to his request. I just turned around and walked forward, my steps steady and sure. Some regrets would always linger in the heart, but as long as I loved myself and kept moving forward, I would have a life I could charge into head-on without looking back.

To carry the lessons from our love without letting it define my future. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing myself after everything. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like the right decision.

“I'm gonna love you 'til my lungs give out I promise 'til death we part like in our vows So I wrote this song for you Now everybody knows That it's just you and me 'til we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go Oh, just say you won't let go” Hunter finally lets me go when the song comes to an end.

The sadness and bitterness in his voice were like arrows piercing my chest. "I love you so much that even if it hurts me, I will choose to let go and give way for what you want. You don't like me, I got that. It's just so hard to get away from you because I can't help it. I don't deserve you, I know that now. But I can be selfless too, Gav. And trust me, I sure know how to let go. If this is what you really want, then from now on, rest assured that I will no longer bother you..." This time, his eyes were full of sorrow and weariness.

“After everything I did for her. After everything she was because of me—she thinks she can just erase me like I meant nothing?” He paced back and forth, his voice growing louder with every word. “She was mine! My wife! My name, my house—mine!” Chloe watched him, confusion flickering across her face before turning into annoyance. She stood and walked over to him, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Ethan,” she said softly, her tone sugary sweet. “Come on, you know you love me, not her.” He froze, looking down at her. Chloe smiled, stepping closer. “Aren’t you happy she’s finally divorcing you? You can let go of her annoying, boring self and be with your true love—which is me.”

At the party, friends teased us, asking when Rosalie Diaz and I would finally get married. I looked at her, smiling. She said nothing, and stiffly changed the subject. The friend who'd started the teasing glanced at me awkwardly, apology in his eyes. My smile didn't waver. I took a sip of my drink. I've always been a bit of a procrastinator, though not a hopeless one. So I decided to let Rosalie go. And to let myself go, too.