Forced Into Your World Instead Of Building Ours

Instead of gently shaping a shared life where there was space enough for both of us to belong, you pushed and fitted me entirely into yours. It is often such a dark, lonely place here — far colder and quieter than the simpler world I knew when I walked alone. I admit there were moments of light too: small enough joys, true enough — because your very presence could make me smile; because even a crumb of attention from you felt like treasure enough to lift my heart. But little by little, you taught me to soften, smooth, and sugarcoat every word I spoke, every thought I held, every way I acted — just so I might fit neatly inside your boundaries, just as you believed was “best” for you. In doing so, you stepped right past my happiness, my needs, and the whole life I carried within myself — while you guarded your own comfort and desires above all else. No matter how I adjusted, how I tried, or how much I gave… deep down I remained unfulfilled and unhappy. I see now clearly how selfish it was: you asked me to fill every hollow space and emptiness inside your heart, yet steadily stripped away the very things that kept my heart alive and full. You demanded I be the source of your joy, yet you never paused to ask — or care — what might bring joy to me. I always believed love meant this: that when you truly hold someone dear, you willingly put in effort to see them happy too. Was I mistaken all along? I poured every part of myself into trying — and still it was never enough to make this work both ways. It was always one‑sided: my giving, your receiving; my bending, your standing firm. You may not understand or feel the weight of this truth while I am still right here beside you. But I know one thing with certainty: the moment I am finally gone — you will realize exactly what you had… and exactly how much you lost.