At first, everything seemed perfect. We’d spend hours talking, sharing secrets, and getting lost in the comfort of each other’s presence. They would lean in close, brushing their fingers against my arm, their touch sending shivers down my spine. It felt like a promise—an unspoken understanding that we were meant to be together. Yet just as suddenly, the warmth would evaporate, replaced by a chilling distance. They would pull away, leaving me confused and yearning for the connection we once shared.

I started to notice the signals—they were so mixed that I felt I was losing my mind trying to decipher them. One moment, they’d send me sweet texts that made my heart race; the next, they’d leave me on read for days, abandoning me in a sea of uncertainty. Friends noticed my distress. I would wear a mask, laughing and pretending, but deep down part of me was unraveling with every moment they withdrew.

Over time, I became a shell of my former self. I held onto hope like a lifeline, convinced that the love we shared was just obscured by life’s little complications. I waited for the moments when they would return with warmth. I craved those stolen glances and gentle touches, believing that surely, they couldn’t feel nothing when we were together. But every cycle of love and retreat left scars—my heart ached more than I could bear.

The breaking point came on a rainy evening, the clouds mirroring the storm inside me. I had invited them over, hoping to clear the air, to shed light on the confusion that had plagued us for so long. But instead, their indifference clung to the room like a thick fog. I felt a desperation bubbling to the surface, and suddenly all the pain I had bottled up exploded.

I dropped to my knees, the cool floor-a stark reminder of my reality. Tears streamed down my face as I gazed up at them, my voice trembling with emotion. As I grasped their legs for comfort.

“Why? Just..why? What am I to you? Please, just tell me.. If I'm not all you need.. just let me go.. don't hurt me anymore.. please.”