#loveheartbrekrelationship
I did not love you as you were,
I loved you as a promise.
As a future that spoke softly to my wounds
and told me I would finally be enough.
I loved the idea of waking up chosen,
of being looked at without measurement,
without silent calculations of what I lacked
or what another man might already have.
When you left,
you did not just leave me
you shattered the mirror I used to see myself.
And in the broken glass,
I started mistaking absence for failure.
They say money changes things.
Maybe it does.
But what it would have changed most
is not your heart
it is how loud I could have proven my worth
to someone who never learned
to wait while I was becoming.
You touched another body,
and something inside me went quiet.
Not anger.
Not hatred.
Just a soft death of innocence.
Because love can forgive many things,
but the mind struggles
when the image it protected
is replaced by one it never asked to imagine.
If you returned,
I would hold you gently
but I would be holding myself hostage.
Smiling while negotiating with dignity.
Loving while bleeding quietly.
So I choose absence over erosion.
Growth over explanation.
Elevation over applause.
I will not become rich to be seen.
I will not heal to be reclaimed.
I will rise so thoroughly
that my peace no longer recognizes your name
as something it must respond to.
This is not bitterness.
This is burial.
I am laying to rest
the version of me
who thought love was proven
by staying when it hurt.
And when I love again,
it will not be an idea.
It will be a place
where I am already enough.
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 3:33 PM UTC