To love, To lose, To heal

You wanted me as much as I wanted you, but you never met me halfway. You never took a step forward without dragging hesitation behind you like a shadow. You wanted me to stay, but you never said it, you only spoke in contradictions, pushing me away with words that meant the opposite of what your heart was screaming.

I wanted a man who knew how to treasure what he claimed to love. Someone unafraid to hold on, unafraid to risk, unafraid to say: stay. But all you ever showed me was how easily you hid behind walls of insecurity, how quickly you ran the moment your feelings threatened to spill over. You feared the depth of love, feared the way it could consume you, so you chose to retreat rather than let it touch you.

I thought I could change that. I thought if I loved you hard enough, if I pushed you gently but firmly, you would step into the light. I convinced myself that one day, you'd realize love isn't about control, it's about surrender. But I was wrong. It wasn't that you couldn't come out of your shell; you just didn't want to. Not for me.

Love isn't a one-person fight. It isn't meant to be a game of chasing and retreating. It's supposed to be two people meeting each other in the middle, standing side by side, choosing each other without fear. So why was I always the one taking the bold step forward while you were the one running?

Did you think I wasn't scared too? That I wasn't terrified of falling too deep, of giving too much? But the difference between us was that I chose to stay despite the fear. I chose to risk my heart, even knowing it could break. And yet, you, who wanted this just as much as I did could never choose me with the same certainty.

I won't be the only one fighting anymore. If love is meant to be mutual, then tell me, why am I the only one left standing in the wreckage of what could have been? Why was I the only one brave enough to hold on?

Maybe the real heartbreak, is not that you left, but that you were never willing to stay in the first place.