It was the sound of a woman breaking over and over

 YOU TOOK MY LOVE FOR GRANTED

I gave you the kind of love that doesn’t ask for anything in return—

except to be seen, to be valued,

to be chosen the way I chose you.

But you wore my love like a backup plan,

kept it on a shelf until it suited you.

You thought I’d always be there—

no matter how cold your words,

how distant your heart,

how absent your presence.

I stayed long after I felt lonely beside you.

I kept pouring into a well that never gave back.

And every time I asked for the smallest effort,

you called me too emotional, too much, too dramatic.

But the truth is—

I was just asking for the bare minimum

while I was giving you everything.

You misunderstood my patience for weakness.

My forgiveness for permission.

My consistency for convenience.

But love doesn't survive on one-sided hope.

It needs to be fed, watered, held—

and you let mine starve.

So now that I’m gone,

don’t call it sudden.

It wasn’t.

It was quiet.

It was slow.

It was the sound of a woman breaking over and over,

until one day—

she didn’t.