I found my heart aching at the thought of you,
aching in that quiet, dangerous way where pain doesn't scream,
it settles in the chest and tightens slowly.
The words I never said pressed against my throat,
unexpressed, unfinished,
suffocating me until even breathing felt like work.
Thinking of you left me breathless,
like emotions had hands and they were wrapped firmly around my neck.
So I did the bravest thing I could think of in that moment,
I asked us to forget it.
Not because I didn't care,
but because caring was killing me in small, invisible ways.
And you felt nothing.
You didn't hesitate.
You didn't ask why.
You didn't fight.
You just said, okay.
That single word landed harder than any insult ever could.
It told me everything I was afraid to know,
that what tore me apart
barely brushed your skin.
In that moment, anger rose before logic could stop it.
A sharp, reckless thought crossed my mind,
call it violent, call it human,
call it the scream of a heart that had just been dismissed.
I wanted the pain to leave my chest and exist somewhere else,
anywhere else.
But the truth is,
no punch could ever equal the damage of your indifference.
No physical bruise would hurt the way that okay did.
Because silence, when you're already drowning,
is not peace.
It is confirmation.
And in that moment,
I realized I wasn't asking you to stay,
I was asking you to feel.
And you didn't.
So I stood there, choking on emotions you never noticed,
finally understanding that sometimes
the deepest wound isn't caused by cruelty,
but by how easily someone lets you go.