when you need me most

When you need me most, that's when I walk away.

I've spent years with him-giving, pretending, sacrificing-but I've never really felt the way I thought I would. And still, I've never fully walked away. Each day feels heavier than the last, a quiet ache gnawing at me, reminding me that the person I'm losing isn't him... it's myself.

People see us together and think it's enough. They see the smiles, the routines, the quiet mornings, the coffee he always makes, and they assume our love is perfect. They do not know the nights I lie awake, questioning if staying is worth the cost, or if leaving will destroy everything I've built inside myself. They do not know the small, invisible ways I've been disappearing-slowly, quietly, while he keeps holding on, unaware of how fragile I feel.

It isn't that I don't care for him. He's kind, patient, and loving in ways that make me ache. But sometimes love isn't enough when it takes more than you can give-and when the person you're with doesn't meet you where you need them most. Between guilt, obligation, and the pull of familiarity, I've lost sight of myself, and I can't tell if I'm holding on to him... or just holding myself back.

And now, when life throws new challenges his way, I have to face a question I've avoided for far too long: do I continue to sacrifice myself for a love that demands everything and gives only uncertainty? Or do I finally choose me-even if it means letting go?