The Day you Gave Up On Us 💔

 It's strange how clearly I remember the day you gave up on us. Not because it was marked by a fight, or a grand, dramatic goodbye. That day I was in a pooja but couldn't concentrate. It was quitter, almost too quiet. The kind of silence that settles in your chest and makes a home there, refusing to leave. It was in the way your eyes stopped looking at me the same way. The way your touch became mechanical, like it was something you owed me, not something you wanted to give. I noticed. I always noticed.

I watched you slipping away from me like sand through open finger's so soft, so slow, yet so final. I could feel the distance forming between us before you ever said a word. The texts became shorter, the calls less frequent. The "I love you" faded into awkward pauses. I told myself it was just a phase, that maybe you were tired, stressed, or overwhelmed. But deep down, a voice inside me whispered the truth. You were already halfway gone.

I held on anyway.

I clung to every memory like it was lifeline. The way you used to smile when you saw me, the warmth of your laugh filling the room, the late night conversation's where we shared dreams, fears, and made promises we though we'd never break. I remembered the way you looked at me like I was only one. And I held onto that, like a photograph slowly fading in sun. I convinced myself that love like that doesn't disappear. It couldn't. Right?

But it did.

I watched you waling away not physically at first, but emotionally. Emotionally, you were gone long before your body followed. You became a ghost in my life, present in form but not in feeling. I tired everything to pull you back. I begged, I pleaded. I tried to make myself smaller, easier to love, easier to stay for. But nothing worked. You had made up your mind.

You turned your back and walked away.

And just like that, the person who once promised to stay left.

I was left standing there, heart in pieces, trying to remember when exactly we lost ourselves.
When did we go from soulmate's to stranger's? Was its something I did ? Something I didn't do? 
The question spun in my mind like a storm. I couldn't make sense of it. I didn't want to.
Because the truth was too painful to face: You gave up. You chose to leave. You decided we weren't worth fighting for anymore.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake you, make you feel what I was feeling. I wanted you to hurt the way I did, to understand the weight of the pain you handed me without even blinking. 
But instead, I just stood there. Quite. Defeated. Watching you walk away.

I tried to move on. God. I tried

I downloaded dating apps. I went out with friends. I smiled for pictures and laughed at jokes. But it was all a mask. Inside, I was broken. Inside, I was still standing in the same place, replaying every moment, every words, every missed sign. Everyone kept killing me to let go, to stop holding onto someone who already left. But how do you let go of someone who still haunts your dreams? How do you stop loving someone you still feel in your bones?

You were my everything. And without you, I felt like nothing.

There were nights I stayed up just staring at the ceiling, wondering if you ever thought of me.
Wondering if you missed me even a little. Did you regret it? Did you feel even a flicker of what I felt? 
Or did you move on, seamlessly, while I was drowning in the pieces you left behind?

I kept telling myself I would be okay. That one day, I'd wake up and not think of you first. That I'd hear our song and not feel like my chest was cramping in. That I'd pass by places we used to go and not flinch at the memories. But healing doesn't happen all at once. It's slow. It's messy. It hurts more than I ever imagined.

And the worst part? I blamed myself.

I kept going over everything, looking for the moment I failed. The moment I stopped being enough. I thought if I could just find the reason, then maybe I could fix it. But no matter how much I dissected our story, I never found a satisfying answer. Because sometimes, people leave not because of anything we did but because the simply stop choosing us. And that's a truth I'm still learning to accept.

I still remember your voice, your scent, the way your arms felt around me. I remember our inside jokes, our whispered "forever's". And it breaks me every time, because I wanted that forever. I was all in. I would have chosen you a thousand times, even knowing how it ended. 

But you didn't choose me.

And that's what hurts the most.

You gave up. On me. On us.

And I had to learn how to keep living wit that. To accept that closure wouldn't come form you, but from within me. That healing wasn't about forgetting you but forgiving myself for holding on too long.

You never no how many nights I cried for you. How many mornings I woke up hoping to see your name. you'll never know the silence I sat in, just waiting for something that would never come back.

And now, as I slowly rebuild, as I learn to breathe without you. I realize something: You may have walked away, but I survived it.

I made it, though.

And one day, this pain will be just another scar. Not forgotten, but no longer bleeding. A reminder of love, of loss, of growth.

Because sometimes the people we love the most leave us the deepest lesson.