Jhoyaaa14
WARNING: Mature content. Read at your own risk!
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I was never his priority.
I was never his first choice.
Loving for the second time hurt more than the first, as if my heart remembered how to break and did it better this time. I gave everything I had, every ounce of love, every fragile hope until there was almost nothing left of me to give.
How can love be so cruel, when all I ever did was love sincerely?
How can it be so demanding, when even after I emptied myself, it still asked for more?
I kept fighting for someone who never truly saw my worth, mistaking endurance for love and pain for proof of devotion. I held on, believing that if I loved harder, stayed longer, gave more, I would finally be enough.
But when will I learn that love is not always meant to stay?
That sometimes, walking away is not weakness but survival?
Is my love worth fighting for-or was it never meant to be risked on someone who never chose me in the first place?