"You don't have to set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm."
They say time heals, but healing isn't some clean, straight path. It's messy. It's loud. Sometimes it's quiet in all the wrong places. And sometimes… you take two steps forward only to fall right back into a memory you weren't ready to feel again,David made me like this.
David's texts came like a whisper through a closed door, so unexpected very random but I was so happy seeing his texts, it brightened up my day.
"Hey, can you do this for me, please do this", everything it was the same old message I didn't mind I just felt he needed me and would probably take me back one day so I didn't hesitate to answer him.
Some message from him stayed on my screen longer than it should have. Not because I didn't know how to reply, but because part of me was still that girl waiting for him to come back and say it wasn't true — that he never stopped believing in me, even when everyone else tried to make him doubt, but it wasn't it he just needed me to do something for him as usual.
I aways thought he'll come back and say "he missed me" and he realized he never gave me the chance to explain. That believing lies without hearing my voice was the biggest mistake he ever made. All these were just hopes they never came true.
Because even after everything ,after he believed them, after he walked away like what we had didn't matter ,whenever he needed me, I was still there.
When he needed me to read for him and summarize the topics I did it without thinking.
When he didn't understand a topic and we were having exams the next day I cleared everything I was doing to make sure he understood it, explaining it to him for 6 hours.I remember sending him my notes before even reading them myself.
He would say thank you, sometimes.
Other times, he wouldn't.
But I told myself: This is love, the kind that shows up even when it's not returned the same way.
But one morning, I woke up, and everything felt different.
I stared at my phone. There was another message from him. Something small, probably asking for help again. And instead of rushing to reply, my fingers froze.
Not because I was angry.
But because I finally realized I was tired of him.
Tired of being the emergency contact in his life while I wasn't even part of his everyday, I was feeling used he never asked me once how i was feeling he just needed me then when he was done he left, I didn't want that again.
Tired of being the soft place he landed only when it was convenient.
Tired of shrinking myself, bending backwards, and calling it loyalty.
So for the first time, I left his message on read, I felt very strange in a good way though like a weight was lifted off my chest.
No explanation.
Just silence, the same kind he once gave me.
And it hurt. God, it hurt.
Because no one tells you how heavy healing can feel when it means walking away from someone you still care about.
But I knew I had to protect my peace, what little of it I was still rebuilding.
Meanwhile, my so called friends never stopped. You'd think breaking us up was enough for them, but no. They're like echoes, whispers turning into shouts when they see me smile. Like they can't stand the thought of me standing tall again. They feed on drama, and they wanted my life to be filled of drama not the good, they just hated me for no reason I was never rude to then, I was just Jay.
They still talk. Still twist my name into things I don't recognize.
But you know what? Let them.
Let them tell their stories.
Let them invent a version of me that fits their jealousy.
Because anyone who matters, really matters, will look beyond the noise and see me. The real me. Won't judge me by what others paint me to be, he'll paint his own picture and call it theirs cause that's how they see me.
The one who gave love.
The one who was loyal.
The one who kept showing up, even when she had no reason to.
I don't hate David. That 's the complicated part.
I still care, in ways I can't fully explain.
But love should never feel like a one-sided offering.
It should never feel like you have to prove you're worthy of being believed.
So now, during exams, when I see him across the hall, I no longer feel that ache in my chest.
Instead, I feel something new.
Distance.
Not the physical kind. But the kind that comes from growth. From finally understanding your worth and deciding that anyone who can't handle your truth doesn't deserve your presence.
And maybe he looks at me now with regret.
Maybe he wonders why I stopped replying.
Why I stopped being the person he could always depend on.
But the answer is very clear and simple,
I chose me.
I chose to stop sacrificing things for him and living for myself and it felt really good.
I chose to let him sit in the silence he once gave me, not out of revenge, but because sometimes the only way people learn is when they lose the parts of you they took for granted.
I still walk the school halls with my head high, even if the whispers try to follow me.
I sit for my exams with focus, even when my heart still stutters at the thought of him.
I'm healing. Day by day. Choice by choice.
And one day, whether he comes back or not, whether he realizes what he lost or keeps texting from a distance, I'll be okay.
Because this chapter?
It's not about what he did.
Or what they said.
It's about me — finally choosing myself without apology.