the scariest version of me is not angry, it's silent- because it only means i don't care anymore. it means i've reached a point where i've said everything i needed to say, felt everything i needed to feel, and realized none of it made a difference. that silence carries the weight of disappointment, of lessons learned the hard way, and of a heart that has slowly started to close its doors. when i become silent, it's not to punish or to create distance out of spite-it's because i no longer have the energy to fight for something that doesn't fight for me. it means i've let go, not just of the situation, but of the hope that things would change. and that's what makes it so powerful and so final. because when i stop caring, i also stop looking back-and that kind of goodbye rarely comes with words, only with a quiet strength that chooses peace over everything else.