I sat in our dimly lit room, the atmosphere heavy with silence and unspoken words. The flickering lightbulb overhead seemed to mirror the fading hope in my heart. rafe looked at me with a bewildered expression, uttering those familiar words, "I don't understand." And deep down, I knew rafe never would.
We had hoped for a cure, believing that time would heal the fractures in our relationship. But now, as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, I feared that the remedy we longed for would never arrive. The chasm between us seemed to widen with each passing day, and the bridge we once had, built on love and understanding, crumbled beneath our feet.
I remembered the early days, when we gazed at this room with adoration. It was our sanctuary, a space where we could escape the world and find solace in each other's arms. The warmth of the sunlight streaming through the windows used to fill us with joy. But now, the room felt suffocating, as if the light had been extinguished, leaving only shadows and doubt.
As the darkness closed in around me, I found myself sitting alone, contemplating the remnants of our love. Should I throw away everything we built, or should I hold onto the old love, desperately clinging to the hope that it could be pieced back together? It was an agonizing decision, teetering between holding on and letting go.
But rafe, oblivious to the depth of my despair, continued on with your daily routines. rafe was caught up in his own world, blind to the pain etched on my face. I sent him signals, hoping he would see the distress in my eyes, the trembling of my hands, the subtle changes in my demeanor. But he brushed them aside, dismissing them as inconsequential, refusing to acknowledge the cracks in our foundation.
The air between us grew thick with unspoken words, heavy with loss and indecision. I struggled to find the right words to express my anguish, my fear that we were slowly unraveling. Yet, I knew deep down that my pain was an inconvenience to him. rafe was too consumed by his own desires to notice the storm brewing inside me.
And as time slipped away, I found myself standing in the hallway, watching rafe quickly pass by. The distance between us was growing more and more. The old saying echoed in my mind: you don't know what you've got until it's gone.
"you're losing me," I wanted to scream, to shake rafe out of his complacency and make him realize the magnitude of our crumbling connection. But my voice remained trapped within, suffocated by the weight of unspoken words.
Every morning, as I glared at rafe with storms in my eyes, my silent plea for understanding and compassion went unnoticed. How could rafe claim to love me even tho he couldn't see was slowly dying inside? I sent rafe countless signals, my nervous habit of biting my nails down to the quick, my once vibrant face now drained of color. Yet, rafe remained blind to the sickness that plagued us, refusing to acknowledge the impending tragedy.
With each passing day, I faded away, my heart growing weary and numb. The love I had once poured into our relationship began to wither, replaced by a hollow emptiness. I yearned for rafe to do something, anything, to save us. I craved for rafe to say something, to acknowledge the pain and make an effort to bridge the widening gap. But rafes silence spoke volumes, louder than any words ever could.
"You're losing me," I whispered as he waled by, my voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken grievances.
Rafe turned to face me, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What?" he uttered, his voice tinged with surprise.
"Rafe, do you not love me anymore?" I asked, the words escaping my lips with a mix of fear and desperation.
"Of course I love you," he responded, his tone growing angrier. "Then what the fuck is going on between us?"
I couldn't help but fiddle with the rings on my finger, a nervous habit that had become all too familiar. "there is nothing wrong with us baby" he said quietly "There is something wrong," I asserted, my voice gaining strength. "All of our friends are getting married lately, and for the past months, it feels like you haven't even been able to look me in the eye or stay in the same room as me for more than an 30 minutes."
