No Apology Needed

I don’t need your apology nor your sugar-coated words. I buried my voice in unblossomed nights while you raised yours, tried to swallow my tears like an orange seed, bitter, choking, unspoken. My heart was bent into shapes I could no longer recognize. I remember the silence after I begged on my knees, how it echoed louder than a volcano, how I shrank, piece by piece, until I became a ghost in my own story. But through all that pain, hear me now— I am not that pitiful girl anymore. I’ve gathered the pieces of myself you scattered like fallen stars, stitched every fracture with trembling hands, and made myself whole again. I have learned—love should never feel like war fought alone. Still… I hope someday it finds you, not as revenge, but as understanding— that quiet ache of giving your all and receiving less. If anything, I forgive the girl who stayed, who mistook hardship for love, who held on when she should have let go. Your apology was never mine to need. But when life grows heavy on your shoulders, let my silent suffering and midnight cries cross your mind, and remember not to place blame. Because I never did. Not even once.