I remember that night too clearly.
It wasn't loud, it wasn't messy, it was calm in the cruelest way.
You were pulling away, and i could feel it in the pauses between your messages,
in the way "good night" started sounding like a period instead of a promise.
So i finally said it.
"If this is how it's going to be… maybe we should stop."
I said it because i wanted to protect what was left of me.
I said it hoping you'd say, "No, let's fix this."
But instead, you agreed.
Your words felt rehearsed, gentle, but final.
"I've been thinking too, maybe you're right.
I'm not in the right mindset to be talking to anyone at the moment…
my head is just all over the place.
I have this wave of sadness that hits me once in a while…
I start to dissociate and disappear from everyone.
I don't want to waste your time and keep you hoping. I'm sorry for prolonging this and I wish you the best."
I swear, my whole body trembled reading that.
But not a single tear fell.
It's like my heart froze mid-beat,
because i knew, that was it.
It wasn't anger that hit me first, it was disbelief.
How could someone make me feel so seen,
then disappear like it was nothing?
I wanted to scream, but all that came out was silence.
And when u finally managed to reply,
it wasn't a confession or a plea.
It was control.
It was me holding my dignity together with shaking hands.
"Not surprised, just disappointed.
I hope you won't do to others what you did to me, because not everyone will be as patient and understanding as i was.
Take care and God bless."
I read it again before hitting send,
and it sounded strong,
but my hands were cold, my chest tight,
and every word felt like goodbye.
Then you replied.
"You're a good person with a good heart, and I'm truly sorry if i ever did you wrong."
That was your last message.
Polite. Safe. Final.
And i hated that it still sounded like you.
I didn't cry that night,
maybe because i already grieved the loss while you were still here,
in the late replies,
in the fading effort,
in the way you stopped saying good morning.
I realized heartbreak doesn't always come with tears.
Sometimes, it's just numbness,
a quiet ache that sits inside your chest
and whispers, "You should've known."
And maybe i did.
Maybe i saw it coming.
But i stayed anyway,
hoping that this time,
someone would choose to stay too.
You didn't.
And that's okay.
Because at least i know i gave something real, even if you couldn't handle it.
Goodbye,
not because i wanted to,
but because you left me no other choice.