It’s the kind of heartbreak that doesn’t scream. It sits quietly in your ribs, heavy, patient. Every memory still knows your name, every song still sounds like you meant it for us.You promised forever so softly that I believed time itself would listen. Now I’m learning how silence can be loud, how absence can feel like someone still holding you— just without the warmth.I replay your laugh like a prayer I no longer believe in, trace your ghost through empty nights, wondering how someone can be gone but still own every corner of my heart.This isn’t anger. This is love with nowhere to go. This is me breaking slowly, pretending I’m healing while I’m still waiting for you in every place you’ll never return to.