One day, you’ll look back and see what you missed.

The moments I reached out, but your silence answered.

The times I told you how much your actions hurt me, but you dismissed my words like they were nothing.

I warned you—you were losing me—but you didn’t believe it. Not until it was too late.

You’ll remember the sacrifices I made for us, the nights I swallowed my pride just to keep us together.

Even when you were wrong, I stayed.

Even when you refused to see my pain, I tried.

You’ll miss the way I used to care for you—the little things only I noticed.

The way I said “I love you” while holding your face in my hands.

The laughter we shared, the jokes only we understood.

The warmth of my touch, the safety of my presence.

But you’ll also remember the things you ignored.

The times I needed you, but you weren’t there.

The way I folded myself into pieces to fit your world, only to realize I wasn’t a priority in yours.

Now, you’re left with my quiet absence.

Because here’s the truth:

When someone stops fighting for you, it’s not because they don’t care anymore—it’s because they’ve given all they can.

And though you may think you loved me, I couldn’t live with your version of love anymore.

It wasn’t enough.

One day, you’ll connect the dots:

All the ways I tried to stay.

All the ways you pushed me away.

And by then, it’ll be too late.

You’ll miss me.