Love is not in response,
but in presence,
with pain, with silence,
with the quiet ache beneath the words.

When someone truly sees you,
their fear is not losing you,
it’s hurting you.

Not losing access,
but causing harm.
That is love.

But when they love what you bring,
not who you are,
they fear the emptiness
of losing their supply,
not the breaking
of your heart.

Were you loved for who you are?
or what you gave?
or what you simply couldn’t give?

It’s a subtle line,
a delicate detail,
but, it says — everything…