Some days I convince myself I'm okay.That I can live with the way things are.That I can keep loving him silently and still find peace in the little pieces he gives me.
But lately...even the smallest moments feel too loud.
When he smiles at his phone, I wonder if it's her.When he cancels plans, I already know why.And when he says he's tired, I don't ask questions—because I've learned that knowing the truth sometimes hurts more than pretending.
I keep replaying our history in my head,like maybe if I look hard enough, I'll find a moment where he felt it too.Even just for a second.
But the truth is:He was never mine to lose.
And yet, I'm still grieving him like a heartbreak.
I've started learning how to pull away.Not all at once—Just little things.
Not replying instantly.Not always saying yes.Not waiting for him to notice me first.
And maybe that's what healing looks like.Not some grand goodbye, not a dramatic end—just the quiet decision to stop breaking your own heart.
One day, I hope I'll forget the sound of his laugh.Or at least...stop hoping it's meant for me.