Have you ever felt like you been asking him for his time and he couldn't seem to make the time for you? Well this song is for you. I wrote this song because sometimes I asked for what I needed and I was never seeming to get it. I've waited long enough.

For you the setting maybe different but the story always rings the same. The rain drummed on her window as she sat in her room, the soft glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows. It wasn’t just the weather that made her feel cold inside—it was the realization that she’d been giving her time, her energy, and her heart to someone who treated her like an option.

The texts came sporadically, filled with hollow words like “soon” and “maybe.” Plans were made and broken as easily as promises. At first, she made excuses for him. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he wasn’t ready for something serious. Maybe she wasn’t enough. But as the weeks stretched into months, the truth became clear: it wasn’t her that wasn’t enough. It was him. He didn’t see her worth.

One day, she found herself scrolling through their old messages, rereading conversations where she had poured her soul out, only to be met with casual replies. Her chest tightened, and a knot formed in her throat. She closed her phone and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She saw someone who had bent over backward for someone who wouldn’t take a single step forward.

That was the moment it all changed.

The next day, she packed away everything that reminded her of him—photos, notes, gifts. She put them in a box and shoved it to the back of her closet. Out of sight, out of mind. She deleted his number, blocked him on social media, and even muted the playlist they had shared. It wasn’t about anger or bitterness; it was about reclaiming her peace.

As the days passed, the knot in her chest began to loosen. She started journaling, pouring out her feelings onto paper. Her words turned into affirmations: “I am enough,” “I deserve love that’s certain,” “I will no longer wait for someone who won’t make time for me.” Each page became a step forward, a declaration of her newfound strength.

Weeks later, she found herself on the beach at sunrise. The sky was painted in hues of gold and pink, the waves gently lapping at the shore. She sat there, her journal in hand, and wrote the last entry about him:

"You were a chapter, not my story. I’ve closed the book on us and opened one about me."

As she finished writing, a bird flew overhead, its silhouette stark against the rising sun. It was a fitting symbol of her journey—freedom, release, and the promise of new beginnings. She smiled faintly and stood, feeling the sand shift beneath her feet. She didn’t look back as she walked toward the horizon, where the sun met the sea.

The echoes of the rain that once mirrored her tears had faded. In their place was the soft hum of waves and the gentle call of the wind, reminding her that she was finally free.

Thank you for allowing me to let you go my love.