The hardest part of walking away is knowing you won't come after me. I've accepted that I'm not someone you'd fight to keep. And even as I move forward, there's a small, stubborn part of me that still wishes you'd call my name. But I know you won't. You'll stay where you are, unmoved, untouched, unbothered by my absence. The pain of feeling replaceable cuts deeper than silence ever could. Still, I'll carry our memories softly, and I'll learn to let you go, even if the healing is something I have to do alone.