I won't

I will no longer allow my soul to be drenched in the tears you never cared to notice.

No more sobbing into the silence of midnight, no more restless tossing over what I could’ve done to stop this slow unraveling.

I will not bear the weight of regrets for the love I gave so selflessly, or the kindness I poured into a heart that slowly forgot how to hold mine.

I refuse to let guilt sit at the edge of my bed like an uninvited guest.
I won’t welcome its whispers, nor will I let it twist the truthof the woman I was, the woman I am.

From August 2014 until now, every tear, every ache— they taught me.

But I will not allow them to define me.

Not anymore.

I will not mourn a ghost that still walks with breath in its lungs but no longer carries the memory of love in its chest.

I will not wait for you to become the man you once were— because that man left and you never looked back.

I won’t dance to the rhythm of your moods, won’t react to every dagger of silence, or every word thrown like a stone just to watch me bleed.

You want me to crack, to fall apart under the weight of it all— but I won’t.

I won’t scream when you finally say it’s over. 

I’ve heard the echoes long before you found the courage to speak it aloud.

I will not entertain the voices that say I was wrong to love you.

I wasn’t.

You were my choice, freely and wholly.

But somewhere in the middle, you took a different road and forgot to tell me you weren’t coming back.

I will not sit in the ruins of "us," sifting through ashes looking for a flame that has long been snuffed out. 

I will not cry in front of those who underestimated what we had— or what I gave.

I won’t mourn your absence  when you’ve been emotionally gone long before you physically left.

Believe me when I say— I’m not afraid to forget you.

Forgetting someone who’s already forgotten how to hold your heart is easier than you think.

Keep going.

Keep living the way you are.

And one day, you’ll turn around, searching— but I’ll be gone.

Don’t worry about cutting me off.

I’ll do it for both of us.

And when I leave, I won’t slam the door.

I’ll vanish quietly, gracefully— like the last sigh of a storm.

That is my promise. 

Not out of vengeance.

Not out of pride.

But because I finally choose myself.

And for once— that’s more than enough.