“Not every love is returned — but every love can return us to ourselves.”
The Boy, the Blog, and the Silent Star
Once, there was a boy who wrote his heart into words, sending them across the silent sky to a distant star.
He waited, night after night, for the star to shine back — but she stayed silent.
His hope turned to ache, his ache turned to reflection.
One day, he stopped looking only at the sky — and saw the words he had written.
In them, he found not just longing, but honesty, innocence, and quiet strength.
He realized:
“The star never spoke — but she made me speak.
The star never loved me — but she taught me to love.
And the boy I was became the man I am… because I dared to care.”
Years passed.
The boy still remembered the silent star — but now, he walks under the sky without waiting.
The sky was larger than just one star.
He still carried love — but now, it was love that freed him, not love that chained him.
A small note for Lachu
You were the silent star that never spoke back — yet you made me speak, reflect, and become.
No words came from you, but your silence itself shaped me.
Wherever you are: thank you, for being the star that taught me how to love, and let go.
May your sky be gentle, your nights peaceful, and your own stars always kind.
Farewell Message to Readers
Thank you for walking with me through these pages, these memories, and these quiet reflections.
The words may stop here, but the journey continues — in all of us who dared to care, dared to hope, and learned to let go.
Wherever you are in your own sky,
May you always carry love that frees you, and memories that make you gentle.
Author’s note
This blog began as a letter to one silent star.
It ends as a letter to anyone who’s ever loved quietly, hoped silently, and learned to let go.
Sometimes, those who never love us back give us the greatest gift:
They awaken in us the courage to feel without fear, to love without demand, and to walk forward without waiting.
This is my last post on this blog. Not because I’ve forgotten, but because I’ve grown.
— Kichan