(Forgotten thoughts dusted off)

The End of Love... In Silence

The end of love came not with a bang, but with a silence that resembles the death of beautiful things when they are forgotten.

It was a love that lived for years, growing with us, sharing both the small details and the big dreams. We used to believe that time would protect our feelings, but instead, it taught them exhaustion. Little by little, the words became fewer, the blame heavier, and our hearts grew lonelier despite the proximity.

It hurts that we didn’t separate because we stopped loving, but because we grew tired of trying. Because the hands that were entwined for so long relaxed without us noticing. Because we no longer knew how to save what was left without losing ourselves.

Now, I miss you in things no one else notices: in a song that played by chance, in a message that was never written, in a laugh whose meaning we knew without explanation. I miss the person I was with you—the one who believed that staying was easier than leaving.

It is painful for a love that lasted years to end, not because the memories vanished, but because they are still alive... breathing in the heart, reminding me that some endings don't close doors, but leave them ajar to a long, enduring ache.