I lost my love on a quiet evening.
We did not fight loudly.
We did not hate each other.
We only became silent.
One day, I noticed that my messages were longer,
and the replies were shorter.
My heart was full of questions,
but your eyes were full of distance.
I still remember the way you smiled at me.
That smile once felt like home.
Now it feels like a memory I am afraid to touch.
I asked you,
"Did I change… or did your heart change first?"
You did not answer.
And that answer hurt more than any words.
I learned something that day:
Sometimes love does not end with anger.
Sometimes it ends with waiting.
I lost my love,
not because I stopped loving you,
but because you stopped choosing me.
And now, every night,
I don't miss your voice…
I miss the person I was
when you still loved me.