Unseen Wounds

You didn’t love me —

but you made me believe you did.

You didn’t promise forever —

but you made me feel like I should wait for it with you.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you looked at me that way,

when you touched me like I mattered,

when you said,

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You gave me hope,

but it wasn’t honest.

It was dressed up in attention,

wrapped in just enough affection

to make me stay.

You didn’t have to say it out loud —

your actions said enough.

The way you’d show up when I was ready to walk away.

The way you’d talk me back into believing in us

when you weren’t even sure you believed in me.

You gave me false hope —

and that’s what hurt the most.

Because I held onto every look,

every “good morning” text,

every night you held me like you meant it.

I held onto the way you made me feel like maybe… just maybe…

this was real.

And when you started pulling away,

you didn’t say it.

You just faded.

Quietly.

Cowardly.

I was left with confusion,

then silence,

then the truth.

And the truth is —

you never planned to stay.

You just didn’t want to be the villain.

So you left me with the weight of wondering,

questioning,

blaming myself.

But I know now:

It wasn’t me.

It was never me.

It was the way you loved convenience but not commitment.

The way you fed your ego on my hope

and left me starving.

So this is me letting go of what you never gave —

and reclaiming everything I gave too freely.

I deserved real.

I deserved clarity.

I deserved love that didn’t lie with its hands and run with its heart.

You gave me false hope.

But I’m giving myself peace.

You don’t get to rent space in me anymore.

Not now.

Not ever again.