A Random Wednesday

I know my worth now — not because you reminded me, but because you forgot to. The silence is loud, like it’s screaming your absence, echoing in every space you used to fill with your half-hearted words. You taught me something I didn’t ask to learn — that “I care about you” can sound a lot like a lie when followed by excuses. I trusted you. You became part of my rhythm — the good morning texts, the late-night calls, the quiet visits when the world felt too heavy. You were my habit. Now you’re just a memory that smells like disappointment. All it took was a random Wednesday. No warning, no storm. Just you — drifting away like it didn’t matter. Maybe it didn’t. I should’ve seen it coming, right? All those pauses, all that “busy,” all those missed moments that I filled with hope instead of doubt. You said you wouldn’t hurt me. But you did — not with words, but with your silence. I won’t chase you. I won’t beg for your attention. You’ve already said enough by saying nothing at all. So go. Be where you want to be. I’ll be here, learning to breathe without your name in my lungs.