modestMoon5830 Member Profile

...See more You don’t see me. You see the ghosts behind me. I’m the placeholder, the scapegoat, the voodoo doll for what they did to you. You don’t hear me you hear echoes. You react to phantoms, swing your hurt at air but it lands on me. You don’t see the man who stayed even while unraveling. The man who held you as he lost pieces of himself trying not to trigger your past. You don’t see the panic attacks, the quiet sobbing, the numbness from giving more than I had And the loud frustrated outbursts You don’t see the double standards, the rules shifting with every flare of your pain. You don’t see my silence wasn’t peace it was survival. I loved you enough to fight for you. But not enough to set you free. I was selfish. I saw how triggered you were when I brought him up. I saw how it wrecked you. How you stitched fiction into memory just to make sense of the fear. I saw the accusations. The hypervigilance. The lack of rest in your spirit. I saw you and thought my love could be the antidote. I thought if I held tighter, you’d stop pulling away. If I gave more, you’d finally see me. If I kept pouring, you’d fill me back. I was wrong. I was selfish not because I didn’t care, but because I thought my caring would be enough. I should’ve let you go. I should’ve said You’re beautiful, but you need space to mend. I can’t be the salve for wounds I didn’t make. I’m sorry for trying to love away your pain. I’m sorry for becoming someone bitter while waiting to be seen. I didn’t see you as you were. I saw you through a dream instead of sunlight. I saw what I hoped you’d become. I’m sorry I didn’t have the heart to walk away sooner, with love still intact. I’m even more sorry I didn’t have the self-love to leave sooner. I hope you heal. I really, deeply do.

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