I'm ready to let you go,
ready to accept that maybe it was me all along
maybe I was the one who planted the seeds of doubt,
who left scars deep enough to make trust a distant dream for you.
I've stopped seeing you as the villain,
stopped casting myself as the one in your story.
Because the truth is, I'm ready to let go
of you, of us, of the six long years that shaped me.
Everything you were to me.
I grew into someone who loved with walls,
who thought protecting you from the world,
from yourself
was enough to show how much I cared.
But you needed more
you needed words that I never knew how to give.
You needed reassurance, warmth,
something I could never provide.
And so I made you doubt.
I made you question yourself,
made you doubt me,
until the cracks in us turned to breaks,
and you crumbled beneath the weight.
But I started to doubt you too
doubt whether we could ever repair the damage,
until I couldn't hold on anymore.
I broke us.
In that moment,
I killed what we had.
