the moment i stop complaining about the little things, it means you've already lost me. because when i care, i notice everything. i ask, i worry, i point out the small things because i want us to grow, because i still believe we can fix it. my effort shows in the way i talk, the way i try to understand, the way i don't give up easily. but when i go quiet, it means i'm done trying. it means i've accepted that you don't see me the way i see you. it means i've already felt the distance and accepted it. and that silence is my final goodbye.