On a cold winter night, I stood heartbroken on my balcony, hidden from the world. Even the icy wind gave me the warmth I had been begging for from you.
I am stepping into 2026 with no best friend to lean on, a family that feels distant, and a boyfriend who treats my existence like something optional. I stand here broken mentally exhausted, physically drained carrying wounds no one bothers to see. Some nights, I wonder if I am so deeply flawed that even God decided I deserve the heaviest pain. The loneliness settles in my chest, whispering cruel thoughts that maybe my absence would be quieter than my presence, that maybe I was never meant to be held gently by this world. And yet, I wake up. Still breathing. Still feeling. Still hurting.
I miss you in the quiet ways. In the pauses between messages that never arrive, in the phone that never rings. Distance seems effortless for you, while I exhaust myself trying to close it. I have tried everything to bring you back. Even when your words cut me, I choose silence over curses, because loving you still feels heavier than hating you ever could. I would give anything to have you in my life again, yet you look at me as if I am already gone as if my presence makes no difference, as if my absence would not be noticed at all. And that is what breaks me the most not the loss, but the feeling that even if I disappeared, you would continue untouched. My heart aches each time I hold space for you, realizing that loving you has become the loneliest place I know.
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