I Stayed Until I Disappeared

There was a time
when I would notice the smallest change in your voice,
the silence between your texts,
the weight behind your “I’m fine,”
and I would sit there for hours
trying to love you gently enough
to make your pain feel lighter.

I cared in ways you never had to ask for.
I stayed when leaving would have been easier.
I listened when you spoke about everyone else
but never really listened to me.
I made excuses for your distance,
called your neglect “busy days,”
and convinced myself
that love meant being patient through everything.

But slowly,
I started realizing something painful—
people can be loved deeply
and still choose not to value the person loving them.

You grew comfortable with my presence.
Comfortable with knowing
I would always understand,
always forgive,
always remain.

And maybe that was my mistake.
I loved you so consistently
that you forgot I could be hurt too.

There is a different kind of loneliness
that comes from feeling unseen
by the person you care about the most.
It is not loud.
It does not arrive all at once.
It slowly settles inside the chest
until even your own heart
starts feeling like an empty room.

I waited for effort.
For honesty.
For reassurance.
For one moment where I would feel chosen
instead of merely tolerated.

But love cannot survive
when only one person keeps carrying it.

So yes, I became distant.
Yes, I stopped saying everything I felt.
Yes, I learned how to hold my silence
the same way I once held onto hope.

Not because I stopped caring.
That would have been easier.

I closed parts of my heart
because loving you while being ignored
was slowly destroying the softest parts of me.

And sometimes,
protecting your heart
means accepting that not everyone
who is loved by you
will know how to love you back.

 - abhinavjoshi875@gmail.com