@unspokenpreet: CL I hope one day you remember me in a room where no one knows how to love you without needing to be convinced. I hope it is quiet. So quiet that my absence finally has space to speak. Not loudly. Not cruelly. Just clearly. I hope you remember the woman who kept choosing you even when choosing you meant leaving herself outside the door. The woman who saw the broken parts and did not run. The woman who held your darkness without making you feel ashamed for having it. The woman who loved you with a kind of softness most people will spend their whole lives trying to find. And I hope it hurts. Not because I want revenge. Because truth is supposed to hurt when it arrives late. I hope you realize you did not lose someone ordinary. You lost the hands that kept reaching for you when you were impossible to hold. You lost the heart that prayed for you even after you became the reason it was breaking. You lost the woman who would have built a life beside you, not because you were perfect, but because she believed you were worth becoming better for. And that is what you will never get back. Not my love. A love like mine. Because I know now, I was not asking for too much. I was asking the wrong person to recognize something sacred. You stood in front of a woman who would have loved you through every season, and somehow, you made her feel like she was begging for rain in a place she had already turned into a garden. That is your loss. Not because I left. Because I stayed as long as I could, and you still did not learn how to choose me. One day, someone will speak to you with less patience. Touch your life with less grace. Look at your flaws without tenderness. And maybe then, you will understand what it meant to be loved by me. Maybe then, my name will not feel like a memory. It will feel like a mirror. And in it, you will see the truth you avoided. That I was never hard to love. I was hard to replace. Because I did not just love you. I saw you. And you mistook being seen for something you could survive losing. You were wrong. You will survive it. But you will feel it. In the silence. In the almost. In every room where someone stands beside you and still does not reach the places I once held with both hands. And I will not be there to explain the ache. I will not be there to soften the lesson. I will not be there to make your regret feel less lonely. I gave you the purest part of me, and you taught it how to leave. So when the loss finally finds you, do not call it fate. Do not call it timing. Call it what it was. A woman who loved you with her whole heart, until her whole heart understood that even love must walk away when it is not being cherished. . . . #fyp #foryoupage #Love #poetry #pain

unspokenpreet

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Sunday 28 June 2026 09:06:05 GMT