Mentally Destroyed by You

I met you on a cold October morning. I was sipping coffee, reading my book, and you walked in like you owned the world. You smiled at me. I smiled back. That’s how it started.

You weren’t perfect. But you were warm, kind, and funny. You listened when I spoke. You held my hand like it meant something. I felt safe with you. I let you into my world, slowly, and then all at once.

We laughed a lot in the beginning. Late-night calls, silly jokes, long walks. You said I made you feel alive. I told you the same.

I believed in you.

I told you my secrets—about the nights I cried, about how I never felt good enough. You promised you’d never leave. You said I was strong. That I was beautiful. That you were lucky to have me.

And I believed that too.But slowly, something changed. Your replies got shorter. The calls came less often. You stopped laughing at my jokes. You stopped asking how my day was. I kept trying. I gave more. I made excuses for you.

“Maybe he’s just busy.”

“Maybe he’s tired.”

“Maybe he’s going through something.”

But the truth was simple: you were letting go. And I was holding on.

One night, I asked you if something was wrong. You looked me in the eyes and said, “No, everything’s fine.”

But your eyes were cold. Empty. Like you weren’t even there anymore.

Days turned into weeks. I stopped sleeping well. I checked my phone every hour, hoping for a text. I cried in the shower so no one could hear me. My smile became fake. My heart felt heavy all the time.

Still, I stayed.I thought if I just loved you harder, you’d come back. I thought if I fixed myself, you’d notice me again.

But I was wrong.

You left without warning. No fight. No goodbye. Just silence.

I stared at my phone for hours. I reread old messages. I kept thinking, “Maybe he’ll come back. Maybe this is just a break.”

But days passed. Then weeks. You moved on like I was just another page in your story.

And I broke.

Not all at once. But in little pieces. I stopped eating. I stopped laughing. I stopped being me. I felt like a ghost in my own life.

You didn’t just break my heart—you broke my mind. I doubted everything. I looked in the mirror and saw someone I didn’t recognize. Someone tired, empty, lost.

I thought love was supposed to heal. But ours destroyed me.I kept asking myself:

“Was I not enough?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Was I so easy to forget?”

The worst part? You never gave me answers. You just vanished. Like I never mattered at all.

And that’s what hurt the most—not the leaving, but the silence. The way you made me feel invisible. Unworthy. Unlovable.

But here’s what I’ve learned, after all the tears, after all the nights I thought I’d never be okay:

You don’t get to define my worth.

You broke me, yes. But I am putting the pieces back together. Slowly. Gently. Day by day.

I’m learning to smile again—real smiles, not the fake ones.

I’m talking to people who care.

I’m walking in the sun.I’m writing.

I’m healing.

You may have destroyed the version of me that loved you. But I’m building someone stronger now. Someone softer, too. Someone wiser.

So no, this is not a love story.

It’s a story of pain. Of survival. Of learning to breathe again when the person who took your air walks away.

I loved you. But I love myself more now.And that will always be enough. About This Story This story was created with the assistance of an AI writing tool to help organize my thoughts and emotions. I edited and reviewed it to reflect my personal experience and voice.