Where I Learned to Let Go Quietly

I’m choosing to walk away—not because I stopped loving,

But because I finally started loving myself.

I was there, fully present, yet somehow invisible.

My words floated without landing, my feelings passed without pause.

I gave my heart in a language only the gentle speak.

I showed up in quiet ways, in patience, in understanding,

in effort that never asked to be counted.

Yet you never truly saw me.

And yes, I understand now,

I learned how lonely it feels,

to be next to someone who never truly looks at you.

I tried to be louder with my care, softer with my needs.

I convinced myself that if I loved better,

if I waited longer, eventually I would be seen.

But I realize,

love should not feel like standing in the dark alone,

hoping someone notices your outline.

It should not ask you to dim your heart just to fit into someone’s blindness.

So I am choosing myself now.

I step out of the shadows,

carrying a heart that deserves to be seen, heard, and held,

without having to beg.

I will no longer stay where my tenderness is mistaken for weakness,

where my softness is undervalued,

where my effort is expected but never appreciated.

A gentle heart is not fragile—it is brave.

It knows how to love without force,

how to give without condition,

How to remain kind even when it is hurting.

So I walk away quietly,

My heart is still warm, not broken;

not hardened by what you failed to see.

I leave not in anger, but in clarity.

Because love should recognize you, cherish you,

and never require you to shrink or be weak just to be chosen.

Yours,

Vie