I didn’t lose you.
I just stopped chasing.
And there’s a difference.
Because if I had kept chasing—
if I had kept showing up
every time you pulled away,
if I had kept softening myself
to make room for your distance—
we’d probably still be together.
But I’d be empty.
Chasing you meant abandoning me.
It meant constantly shrinking
to fit into the small spaces
you were willing to offer.
It meant tolerating silence,
reading between the lines,
and accepting breadcrumbs
as if they were a feast.
It meant reaching out
even when you didn’t reach back.
Apologizing just to keep the peace,
even when I wasn’t the one
who broke it.
I get it.
You’re avoidant.
You have wounds so deep
that closeness feels like danger
and love feels like pressure.
And I held space for that—
for as long as I could.
But here’s the truth:
it’s not your fault that you were hurt.
It’s not your fault that life made you guarded.
But it is your responsibility to heal.
It is your choice
to either face your trauma
or let it wreck the people who try to love you.
So no—
I didn’t lose you.
I simply chose not to keep running
after someone who was walking away.
Because love shouldn’t be a chase.
And I shouldn’t have to lose myself
just to keep someone else.
GreatCosmicMothersUnite 