✍️ It’ll Break Your Heart
He told me he wasn’t ready. Not for love. Not for commitment. But he stayed anyway. He stayed long enough to make me laugh again. Long enough to teach my body what gentle could feel like. Long enough for me to fall — hard, quietly, and without permission. I never asked for promises. Just presence. Just honesty. Just… something real. And for a while, it felt like he gave it. The way he held me like I was fragile. The way he memorized my laugh. The way he looked at me like I was everything — even if only in the moment. But then he started pulling away. Texts slowed. Eyes shifted. Energy changed. I asked, "Is something wrong?" He said, "No. Just life. I’m just tired." But the truth was — he wasn’t tired. He was detaching. Quietly. Carefully. Preparing to disappear in a way that would leave no fingerprints. And when he finally said, "I think we should stop," he said it like it was mercy. But mercy doesn’t sound like silence after goodbye. Mercy doesn’t feel l...