Every heartbreak has a story. “Letter to My Ex” invites you into the reflective hearts of people who’ve loved, lost, and grown—offering gentle truths, bold lessons, and encouragement for anyone navigating the aftermath of a relationship. These weekly letters are full of grace and grit, showing how endings shape wisdom and how the past still holds power to teach. From understanding closure to embracing self-love, each piece is a tribute to growth through love, loss, and lived experience.
Charles, a businessman in Nairobi CBD, pens this week’s heartfelt Letter to My Ex
“Hello Charles, it’s been a minute…” I was curled up on the couch in my tiny rented studio, fingers dancing across my phone’s keyboard. I’d been laughing in a group chat with colleagues and old college friends—my favourite late-night pastime—when a message from an unknown number suddenly flashed across the top of my screen.
Who could it be? Curious, I pulled down the notification bar. “Hello, my name is Claire*, the new intern at the office. I need your assistance…”
Claire was one of the four interns who had joined our office a few weeks earlier. What could she possibly want at this hour? Without hesitation, I clicked reply and typed, “Hey, what’s up?”
Her image surfaced in my mind as if on cue. I remembered our first meeting just two days ago at the reception desk. She had on classy blue body-shaper jeans, a white top, and matching white sneakers.
Her flawless chocolate skin framed a beautiful baby face; her brown pupils shone through perfectly aligned lashes, and the tiny gap between her teeth appeared with the slightest smile. Her voice—soft, smooth, almost musical—lingered in my memory. And those curves, perfectly set on her five-and-a-half-foot frame, gave her the quiet confidence of a model.
That day had ended with nothing more than a shared smile. My shift was over, and I had dashed off to a meeting in town. Yet here she was, hours later, reaching out. She explained that she was stuck on an assignment due the next morning and didn’t know how to merge her scripts for the weekly broadcast feature.
The sun was dipping low, painting silhouettes across the clouds outside my window. My studio was only a short walk from the office. Could this be the perfect excuse to spend more time with her? I wondered as I quickly typed back, asking her to meet me in the newsroom in fifteen minutes.
When I arrived, she was in the voicing booth, her soft voice trembling as she practised her script. I had already been the station’s audio editor and voice-over artist for two years, so I guided her through breathing techniques, pauses, and emphasis. We worked side by side for nearly two and a half hours, polishing her piece, merging takes, and listening back until it was flawless.
By then, the office was nearly deserted. Only two nighttime hosts lingered, prepping for their shows. Claire grew more relaxed around me as the evening deepened, our talk drifting from work to life and then, inevitably, to love. Her wit and intelligence were magnetic, irresistible to a sapiosexual like me.
Around nine, we finally stepped out into the quiet night. Her hostel was far, so she needed a motorbike. I walked her to the main road for safety, every glance we shared carrying a blush. Before she left, we hugged, a lingering warmth I carried home with me.
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. I lay on my bed, legs propped against the wall, replaying her laughter, her smile, the feeling of her embrace. I texted to be sure she’d arrived safely. She had.
From then on, we grew closer—long chats, coffee dates, evening walks through the market became our new rhythm. One evening at our usual coffee shop, I finally took the leap. I reached for her hand; our eyes locked in a silence that felt both heavy and sweet. “I’m in love with you,” I said. She blushed, pushed her cup aside, and clasped my other hand. Words failed her, but her eyes said everything. I pulled her into an embrace, and tears welled up as she whispered, “I love you too.”
From then, we were inseparable. We shared dreams and career plans, spent weekends in matching outfits, hiked new trails, took endless photos, made spontaneous visits, and savoured sleepy mornings after late-night conversations. Those six months felt like a lifetime of memories.
But reality has a way of cutting in. Your internship ended, and you moved back to the city.
Distance settled between us like a slow fog. Our calls grew shorter, our conversations thinner, and the spark that once lit every moment quietly dimmed. In the city, new friends filled the space I once held close, until what was once a daily presence became nothing more than photos buried in our galleries.
My attempts to rekindle what we had met only in silence. The warmth was gone; it no longer felt the same.
Now, Claire, you chose your path and left behind the dreams we once built. Maybe you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve simply forgotten. I fault myself for believing your words when you said you loved me. I gave you devotion, expecting you would stand by me forever.
Your conduct—manipulative as I see it now—served its purpose. Perhaps your friends gave you what I couldn’t. Your final text to me was delivered and read, but I didn’t reply. By then, I had begun living in reality, finally seeing the difference between convenience and devotion.
I had been too hurt before to know it, but when it was no longer convenient for either of us, and true devotion was tested, silence felt like the only honest answer.
And that was how our story, once so bright, quietly ended. - Charles, your ex.
Everyone has a story about love, loss, or heartbreak worth sharing. If you’ve ever wanted to say the things you couldn’t—apologies, closure, gratitude, or truths—to someone from your past, we invite you to write to us. Your real, heartfelt letter might offer healing or understanding to someone else who has been through something similar. You may remain anonymous if you prefer, but your words matter. We don’t pay contributors, but we believe in the power of shared experiences and emotional honesty. Join us in creating a collection of letters that explore love, lessons, and letting go. Be part of this movement.
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