It didn’t end with yelling.
It ended with exhaustion.
The kind that settles into your bones. The kind that tells you something important has already been decided — even if no one has said it out loud yet.
We loved each other. That was never the question. What we didn’t have any more was the energy to keep trying in the same ways and hoping for different outcomes. Love stayed. But peace didn’t.
The Moment You Know
There’s a moment in some breakups that doesn’t feel dramatic at all. It’s quiet. Almost polite. It’s the moment you realize you’re both tired of apologizing for the same things. The moment effort starts to feel like obligation instead of choice. And suddenly, staying hurts more than leaving.
When Love Isn’t the Problem
No one warns you how confusing it is when love isn’t the thing that breaks. There’s no betrayal to cling to. No anger strong enough to burn the longing away. Just two people who care deeply — and still can’t meet each other where it matters most.
The Aftermath
The hardest part isn’t the goodbye. It’s the space it leaves behind. The empty hours. The habits with nowhere to land. The future you were quietly building that suddenly disappears. You don’t just grieve the person. You grieve the life you were reaching toward together.
This Is How We Break
Not all endings are explosive. Some arrive softly, wrapped in love, carried by exhaustion… and somehow, those are the ones that take the longest to heal from.
Say The Unspoken 
Leave a comment