To You
No Contact Was Not Punishment
You thought I stopped answering to punish you.
I stopped because every conversation reset my healing to the first day.
You would say you missed me, but not that you wanted to rebuild. You would ask whether I was seeing anyone, but avoid every question about your own choices. You wanted access to me without responsibility for what that access did.
No contact was not revenge. It was the only boundary you could not negotiate.
I still care. I still have moments when I want to send you a song or tell you something funny. Then I remember how long it took me to stop checking my phone.
Silence is not always cruelty.
Sometimes silence is how a person finally becomes safe from hope.
I stopped because every conversation reset my healing to the first day.
You would say you missed me, but not that you wanted to rebuild. You would ask whether I was seeing anyone, but avoid every question about your own choices. You wanted access to me without responsibility for what that access did.
No contact was not revenge. It was the only boundary you could not negotiate.
I still care. I still have moments when I want to send you a song or tell you something funny. Then I remember how long it took me to stop checking my phone.
Silence is not always cruelty.
Sometimes silence is how a person finally becomes safe from hope.
