The Love That Forgot Me

I was absent from your life for a year. Then months. Then days. And finally, without a whisper, I disappeared. But in my silence, I never forgot you. I never stopped thinking about the way you once said I was important to you. And yet, in all that time, you never checked on me. Never asked where I had gone. Never wondered why the girl who once swore she'd always be there had suddenly vanished.

Did you ever think of me? Did my absence ever weigh on you so heavily that it stole the air from your lungs, that it made you cry, not from anger, but from the ache of missing me? Or was I so easy to forget that my disappearance felt like nothing more than a passing shadow, slipping through the cracks of your world without a trace?

If you had reached out, I would have told you, I didn't leave by choice. I was forced to walk away, forced to turn my back to protect the love I thought was real. But in the end, it seems love was only real in my hands, not yours. The moment I left, it disappeared like it had never existed at all.

I once wished you had called, had searched for me, had fought for what we had. But now, I'm glad you didn't. Because your silence told me everything I needed to know.

Reality is cruel to the faint of heart, but at least it's honest. And in its brutal honesty, I finally saw the truth.

I was the only one who ever stayed.