Breakups aren't always loud.
Sometimes, they echo quietly… for days, weeks—inside the heart of the one who tried hardest to hold it all together.
Siya thought the chapter had closed on 7th January.
She thought silence would finally bring peace.
But it didn't.
Silence brought overthinking.
Silence brought memories.
Silence brought a war inside her mind that only she could hear.
In the days that followed, Ruhan messaged her—again and again.
"Please, Siya… just once. Let's talk once."
"I'll fix everything. I'll change. I promise."
"I miss you. I can't live like this."
She would stare at his messages, her fingers twitching to reply.
Every "please" cracked her chest open a little more.
She remembered his smile.
The softness in his voice.
The way he once kissed her forehead and said, "You're my whole world."
But she also remembered the loneliness she felt beside him.
The nights she begged for understanding… and got silence in return.
💔 "Why Couldn't You Just Try?"
One evening, she sat in her room, surrounded by everything he had given her.
A box full of memories:
• Faded chocolate wrappers from their first date.
• A ring he once said was "a promise of forever."
• The watch she gifted him—he returned it with a note saying, "Keep it safe till we meet again."
• The letter he wrote her on their first anniversary.
• Their couple diary—where she wrote everything:
Each date. Each hug. Each kiss. Each fight. Each dream.
She opened the diary one last time.
Her eyes scanned the pages:
"March 11 — We met outside school. First time holding hands."
"June — Our first kiss. I still remember the butterflies."
"August — I cried, but he hugged me until I smiled."
"September — We had a fight. But made up. Like always."
She closed the diary and hugged it tight to her chest.
Then whispered, through tears:
"Why couldn't you just try for me? Why did I have to beg to feel loved?"
She walked to her terrace.
It was late evening—sun setting, sky turning orange and violet.
She lit a matchstick.
And one by one…
She threw everything into the flame.
The wrappers.
The ring.
The letters.
The clothes.
The watch.
And finally… the diary.
The flames danced like wild memories breaking free.
She stood still. Silent.
Not a single tear this time.
Because these weren't just things.
They were pieces of a love story she had to bury to save herself.
"This isn't hate.
This is survival."
📵 She Blocked Him — Not Her Love
Later that night, Ruhan messaged again.
"I know I've been wrong, but please don't end us like this. I can change. I'll prove it."
She stared at the screen.
Tears welled again, but she wiped them away.
Her heart whispered:
"He'll promise now. He'll forget later. You'll cry again."
And then, with shaking fingers, she pressed:
Block.
Not out of anger.
Not out of revenge.
Out of fear.
Fear that letting him back would mean watching herself fall apart again.
🩸 The Wounds That Spoke Louder
That night, every trauma crept back like shadows—
• Her father's nails digging into her skin.
• The pipe that struck her thighs.
• The nights her cries were muffled in her pillow.
• The assault she never asked for.
• The eyes of people who never believed her.
And now, the boy she thought would never hurt her… did.
She sat on the floor, hugging her knees.
And whispered:
"I begged the world not to hurt me. And still… it did."
"I loved him. God knows I did. But I can't keep bleeding to keep someone else whole."
🌅 A New Morning, Alone but Alive
A week later, Siya stood barefoot on the cold marble of her terrace, eyes staring at the sunrise.
It was quiet.
No notifications.
No "good morning, jaan 💗"
No missed calls.
No "I love you" waiting in her inbox.
Just… her.
But maybe, that was enough.
She whispered into the wind:
"You were my miracle… and my lesson."
"And now… I'll be my own."