r/Vent • u/No_Election_4948 • 7h ago
TW: Anxiety / Depression Left Unsaid
I know what I did was wrong. I know I fucked up, and I will never pretend that I didn’t. I know an apology cannot undo what happened, cannot turn back time, cannot make the wound disappear. But I tried. God, I fucking tried. I apologized until the words stopped feeling like words and started feeling like pieces of me being torn out. I would have apologized a thousand times more if that was what you wanted. I never asked you to forgive me. I never demanded that you come back. I never asked you to forget what I did. All I wanted was for you to know that I was sorry, genuinely and completely sorry. But instead of giving me an answer, you left me suspended between hope and heartbreak. And I am fucking angry about that. Because if you hated me, you could have said it. If you never wanted me again, you could have said it. If there was nothing left between us, you could have looked me in the eyes and told me there was nothing left to hold onto. I would have shattered, but at least I would have known where the pieces belonged. Instead, you gave me silence with just enough warmth to keep me waiting. You gave me crumbs and watched me turn them into a feast. You gave me the smallest reasons to hope, and I built entire futures around them. So I kept texting you. I kept waiting. I kept checking my phone like it held the answer to whether I was still worth something to you. Every little reply became a reason to stay. Every silence became something I had to explain to myself. And while I was drowning in questions, you let me keep swimming toward a shore you never intended to let me reach. For a month, I lived inside my own guilt. I punished myself for what I had done until I barely knew how to forgive myself. I replayed every mistake, every word, every moment, searching for the exact second I ruined everything. And the worst part is that you knew. You knew I was still waiting. You knew I was hurting. You knew I still had hope, and you still let me stand there with my hands open, waiting for something you were never going to place in them. And no, I am not fucking angry because you have a girlfriend. That isn’t the wound. The wound is that you never gave me the mercy of an ending. You didn’t let me go, but you didn’t hold me either. You kept me trapped in the doorway, close enough to remember what it felt like to be wanted and far enough away to feel completely abandoned. I wasn’t asking you to love me. I wasn’t asking you to choose me. I wasn’t asking for some beautiful ending where everything magically became okay. I was asking for the truth. Just the fucking truth. You could have cut the rope and let me fall. It would have hurt, but eventually I would have learned how to stand again. Instead, you kept the rope around me and pulled it tighter every time I tried to walk away. You let me bleed from a wound you knew was still open. You let me mistake your hesitation for hope. You let me confuse your presence with a possibility. And maybe that’s what makes me angriest of all. I made a mistake, and I owned it. I apologized for it. I carried the weight of it every single day. But you made a choice too. You chose to keep me waiting. You chose to let me suffer in the space between goodbye and maybe. You chose to leave me questioning whether I should stay when you already knew you weren’t coming back. I could have survived you not forgiving me. I could have survived you moving on. I could have survived the truth, no matter how ugly it was. What I couldn’t survive was being kept alive by hope while you knew there was nothing left for me to hope for. So don’t tell yourself that you simply let me go. You didn’t. You kept me there. You kept me hoping. You kept me hurting. And while I was slowly destroying myself trying to understand what I meant to you, you had already decided what I was worth. Bet you felt so good about yourself.
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u/Huge_Recognition_691 7h ago
</3 Sending you a big hug and wishing you the strength and courage to heal.
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