the art of falling apart

It is often said that the seventh year is where love goes to settle or to die-the threshold where the fire of youth is replaced by a cold, familiar draft, and the promises once whispered in the dark become nothing more than background noise to a life led in separate rooms.

For Daphne, her seven years with Luis didn't end with a spectacular explosion. There were no grand betrayals, no scandals, and no third parties. But amidst their thriving careers and a facade of a perfect life, she was being slowly hollowed out by the things left unseen: the crushing weight of thinking for two, the grace that never found its way back to her, and the exhaustion of being the sole pillar for a relationship that had long been leaning.

Luis believed they had finally found their rhythm because his partner had stopped complaining. What he didn't realize was that Daphne's silence wasn't a surrender to his ways, but a surrender of her love. As Luis settled comfortably into the world Daphne built for him, he remained oblivious that the woman he took for granted was already letting go of her end of the rope.

Sometimes, the end doesn't arrive with a goodbye. It happens every second you leave the person who was supposed to be your partner standing alone.

This is the story of a love that didn't die from a single blow, but from a thousand ignored moments. While one is finally feeling at home, the other is already finding her way out.