It ended the way soft things usually do — quietly, politely, like two people pretending they were never anything more than convenient.
He texted me at 2:13 AM.
“Take care of yourself.”
No explanation, no drama, just that one line.
And I stared at it for a while before replying,
“Always do.”
Except I don’t.
And he knew that.
He used to say I was “the calm in his chaos.”
But the truth is, I was just the pause — the little piece of quiet he could afford before going back to his real life.
He’d come over with tired eyes, smelling faintly of whiskey and exhaustion.
Sometimes he’d talk about his meetings, his wife, his guilt.
Sometimes he’d just hold me without speaking at all.
And every time, I told myself I could handle it.
That I wasn’t like those girls who catch feelings.
That this was just comfort with conditions.
But love doesn’t always ask for permission.
Sometimes it just seeps in — through the small moments, the late-night confessions, the way he’d say my name like it was fragile.
The last time we saw each other, it felt different.
He was quiet, distracted, fidgeting with his phone.
When I asked if something was wrong, he said, “You’ve made this harder than I thought it would be.”
I wanted to laugh, to say, you mean I made you feel something you didn’t plan for?
But I just nodded. Because we both knew what “harder” meant.
When he kissed me goodbye, it wasn’t the way lovers kiss. It was the way people touch something they already know they’re about to lose.
I sat in the car after he left, waiting for my phone to buzz again.
It didn’t.
Not until 2:13 AM — that final text.
It’s been months now.
His number’s gone, but sometimes when my phone lights up late at night, my heart still forgets.
It still hopes.
Because endings aren’t about losing the person. They’re about losing the version of yourself that existed with them.
He said, take care of yourself.
I said, always do.
But what I really meant was — I don’t know how to, not without you pretending to care.
End line:
Some goodbyes don’t echo — they just leave a quiet space where “almost” used to live.
Top Comments
[quietburnout]
“Because endings aren’t about losing the person. They’re about losing the version of yourself that existed with them.” That line punched me in the gut.
[softrealitycheck]
It’s always the 2 AM texts that break you. The kind that sound kind but feel final.
[exsugarbabyhere]
I’ve been there — the polite endings hurt the most. No anger, no closure, just quiet detachment that leaves you hollow.
[lonelySDthrowaway]
As an SD, this hit too close. We pretend “take care of yourself” is kindness, but it’s really just cowardice wrapped in gentleness.
[bittersweetconfession]
You didn’t fall for him. You fell for the illusion that someone could see you without needing to own you.
[realisticromantic]
“I was the pause, not the calm.” God, that line. You captured exactly how it feels to be someone’s temporary peace.
[softrebellion]
“Some goodbyes don’t echo.” That’s haunting. Because it’s true — some just dissolve quietly, but you still carry the silence.
