The first time you hurt me, I should have left...

The answer lies in fear. Fear of emptiness, fear of the unknown, fear of losing what was once beautiful. But isn't true loss precisely when we forget how precious we are to ourselves?

Everyone deserves a love that lifts them up, not one that eats them up from the inside. But we often let the fear of the unknown keep us in relationships that destroy us.

Instead of choosing freedom, we choose familiarity. Instead of leaving, we stay. Why?

Because we believe that hope is stronger than reality.

When you hurt me for the first time, I should have understood that love does not mean suffering. Instead of trusting my feelings, I believed your empty promises. I thought you would change, that this pain would just be a test we had to go through. But every test was just a new wound.

In moments of disappointment, I told myself that I had to persevere. That love was worth fighting for. I didn't see the truth. – that it wasn't me who needed it, it was you. You should have proven that I mattered to you. Instead, I carried the weight of the relationship on my shoulders.

When you hurt me the second time

I should have recognized the pattern. Promises without action were just words echoing in the void. But I persisted nonetheless. I didn't want to believe that someone I trusted could take the right to hurt me.

I convinced myself that love would be stronger than your indifference. I forgot that love is not a competition in patience. Love should be mutual, full of respect and understanding, not pain that we justify with beautiful moments.

Instead of protecting myself, I persisted. I was afraid to admit that I was losing myself.. I consoled myself with the thought that this was part of the relationship. But it wasn't the truth – it was a deception that I allowed.

When you hurt me for the third time, I knew I was becoming a hostage to my own fears.

I was afraid to speak up, to set boundaries, to say enough is enough. Instead, I allowed you to cross a line that should have been set long ago. The silence I maintained was louder than any scream I had ever held inside.

Your touch, which I once associated with safety, has become cold and callous. The words you used to assure me that you cared became just an echo of your actions – empty, false, and insincere. That was the first time I allowed myself to truly look inside myself.

Who have I become? And why did I allow this?

The answer was simple: because I was lost. You made me doubt myself, my worth, and what I deserved. But what I was looking for in you – support, love, and respect – I had to find within myself.

Why didn't I leave earlier? Because I lied to myself. I lied to myself that you would change, that you would keep your promises for once. I lied to myself that love could fix you. But Love is not a tool to fix someone who doesn't want it at all.Love should be a place for growth, not a battlefield where we inflict wounds on each other.

I convinced myself that those rare moments of tenderness were enough to justify all the pain. That your occasional words of confession and repentance could heal me. But they are not. They were just a band-aid on wounds that kept opening up again and again.

I realized that I will never change you, but I can change myself. That I deserve to live a life free from constant pain and disappointment. That the love that eats you away isn't love - it's a trap you create for yourself.

I left. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive.

The tears that streamed down my face were not tears of defeat, but of purification.

Leaving was not easy. It was quiet and heavy, but it was necessary. As I closed the door behind me, I heard my heart, which was tired but free. Slowly I began to understand that I was the one who could set bordersI am the one who can decide who can enter my life and who cannot.