living in the spaces people left behind

it’s strange how empty rooms feel louder after someone leaves. i’ve always wondered if it's the silence that screams, or maybe it’s the echoes of words, laughter, and arguments that seem to cling to the walls. living in the spaces people leave behind is something we all do at some point in our lives. the physical space becomes a metaphor for the emotional and mental real estate that people once occupied in our lives. these spaces—both the tangible and intangible—shape us more than we realize.

people leave in many ways. sometimes it’s an abrupt departure—a friend moving away, a relationship ending, a family member passing. other times, it’s a gradual drift, the kind you don’t notice until one day you’re sitting in a room, and it feels a little colder, a little quieter. the space doesn’t change all at once, but piece by piece, you start to feel their absence in the things left behind—half-read books, unfinished plans, memories that used to feel so vivid but now are muted like a sepia-toned photograph.

dadu shin, ny times | source

i’ve lived in those spaces, and i’m still living in them. what’s funny is that we spend so much time trying to fill these voids—sometimes with distractions, sometimes with other people. we convince ourselves that the new will replace the old. but it doesn’t, not really. the space may get crowded with new memories, new laughter, new faces, but the outline of what once was remains, like the imprint left on a pillow after you’ve gotten out of bed.

take friendships, for example. people often talk about breakups as these monumental, life-altering events—and they are—but we rarely speak about the slow unraveling of friendships. a person you used to call your best friend, the one who knew all your secrets and quirks, slowly becomes someone you exchange pleasantries with on social media. you don’t even realize it’s happening at first. you say, “we’ll catch up soon,” but soon never comes. and then one day, you realize you don’t even miss them, but you miss who you were when they were around. you miss how their presence made the world feel a little less lonely, a little less daunting. now you’re left in the space they once filled, wondering if it was ever as full as you remember.

the spaces left by people we love are particularly hard to navigate. the absence feels physical, like a weight pressing down on you, even though there’s nothing visibly there.

the most difficult thing about living in these spaces is learning to let go while also holding on. we’re taught to move on, to make peace with what’s no longer there. but what does “moving on” even mean? does it mean forgetting? does it mean erasing those people and moments from our lives? i don’t think so. moving on isn’t about filling the space, but about learning to live alongside it. it’s about acknowledging that these spaces, empty as they may seem, are part of our story. they don’t define us, but they shape us. they remind us of where we’ve been, who we’ve loved, and how we’ve grown.

i think, in some ways, the spaces people leave behind are where we learn the most about ourselves. in their absence, we find out who we are when we’re not reflecting someone else’s light. we discover our strength, our capacity for grief. an we also learn to appreciate the spaces we still occupy in other people’s lives—the spaces where we’re still very much present, filling the room with our laughter, our stories, our selves.

so, if you find yourself living in one of those empty spaces, don’t rush to fill it. sit with it for a while. feel its weight, its silence. remember the people who once filled it, and then remember who you are without them. those spaces aren’t voids to be avoided; they’re chapters to be read, lessons to be learned, and eventually, places where you’ll plant new seeds, not to replace what’s lost, but to grow alongside it. after all, the spaces people leave behind don’t stay empty forever. they change, just like we do.

---

i’m committed to keeping this publication free for everyone, but if you’d like to help fuel my work, a coffee would go a long way!

---