The day you left, it didn’t feel real. My heart screamed for you to stay, but my soul knew you were already gone. I held your hand one last time, memorizing the warmth, the shape of your fingers, the weight of goodbye. I watched you walk away, carrying my heart with you, wondering how I’d survive loving someone who no longer loved me back. I knew you were leaving long before you said the words. I could feel the ending in my bones, like a storm brewing on the horizon. But nothing could prepare me for the moment you actually walked away.

You looked at me with eyes that used to be my home, and all I saw was emptiness. I begged you with my silence, hoping you’d change your mind. But you didn’t. You let go of my hand, and with it, you took the future we built.

I stood there, watching you leave, my heart fracturing with every step you took. And when you were gone, the silence screamed louder than any goodbye ever could. I don’t even remember what triggered the final fight. Maybe it was something small, a careless word or a forgotten promise. Or maybe it was the weight of a thousand unspoken hurts finally collapsing. But I remember the look in your eyes — that heartbreaking finality, like you’d already decided.

I begged you without words. My chest heaved with silent pleas as I watched you pack your things. I wanted to scream, to grab you, to remind you of all the love we once shared. But I just stood there, numb and trembling, as you walked to the door.

You turned back one last time, and for a second, I swore I saw a flicker of regret. But then you whispered goodbye, and the door closed. And with it, the world I had built around you crumbled.