What do you do when the person you love doesn’t love you anymore?

Your heart doesn’t just break; it shatters. 

Splintering into jagged pieces too sharp to hold. 

And yet, you clutch them anyway,

Letting them dig into your palms,

Because the pain is better than nothing. 

Your mind drifts to the moments that once felt real, 

The warmth of their voice, 

The quiet ‘I love you’ whispered into your skin. 

Were they ever true?

Or were you just a placeholder, 

A temporary warmth before they found something better?

Your mind wanders… 

What do you say when the person you love says they don’t know if they love you anymore?

Nothing. 

Because what could you say?

You sit there, staring,

As the air is ripped from your lungs, as if your body itself refuses to exist in a world where their love is uncertain. 

You replay every moment, every mistake, peeling yourself apart,

Piece by piece,

Trying to understand where you went wrong. 

Maybe you were never enough,

Maybe you never could be. 

My heart is breaking, not in a way glass shutters, but in the way something erodes, 

Slow, agonizing, until nothing is left but dust. 

I don’t know how to let go of the person who still feels like home. 

But how do you stay, 

When their heart has already left?