---
It doesn't happen all at once.
The heart doesn't announce it's done.
It doesn't shout or weep or throw a tantrum.
No.
It simply… gets quiet.
---
One morning, you wake up and don't check your phone expecting a message.
You don't scroll through your memories like a highlight reel.
You don't whisper his name into the silence of your room like a prayer gone unanswered.
You just breathe.
Normally.
Without the ache.
---
The begging stops.
You don't beg for him to come back.
You don't beg the universe for signs.
You don't beg your heart to hold on a little longer.
You stop writing texts you'll never send.
Stop imagining scenarios where he comes back, finally sure, finally ready.
Stop building futures out of his half-promises.
Because even if he did return now…
You wouldn't open the door.
Not because you don't love him.
But because you finally started loving you.
---
It's strange, the peace that follows pain.
You thought healing would feel like fireworks.
Like finally winning something you've been chasing.
But instead, it feels like silence.
Like still water.
Like standing in the aftermath of a storm, and realizing your house is still standing—
maybe cracked, but yours.
---
Your smile comes back.
Slowly.
Not the forced one you wore for weeks.
But the real kind.
The kind that makes your eyes crinkle and your chest feel light.
You start noticing people again.
Not just anyone, but the ones who look at you like you're possible—not a problem to be solved.
You start choosing yourself.
In little ways.
Wearing the lipstick he said didn't suit you.
Dancing to your favorite songs again.
Sleeping through the night without waking up to check if he came back.
---
One day, you see him.
Maybe in real life.
Maybe just in a photo.
He looks the same.
Maybe a little older.
Maybe a little sadder.
But something's different.
You.
The sight of him doesn't rip through you.
Your hands don't shake.
Your breath doesn't catch.
You don't feel the urge to run. Or reach.
You just feel…
Grateful.
Because he taught you what it's like to burn for someone.
But you taught yourself what it means to survive.
---
You thought he was your forever.
But maybe he was just the earthquake—
meant to shake you hard enough to wake you up.
To remind you that you were never meant to beg.
Never meant to bleed for someone just to prove you could love deeply.
You were meant for more.
You are more.
---
And finally…
finally—
The begging ends.
Not just from your mouth.
But from your soul.
No more pleading for love.
No more aching for answers.
No more holding onto ruins hoping they'd turn into a home.