Luna Echoes

I don’t even know anymore. Like seriously. What even is this? One minute you care, the next it’s like… silence. And I try not to take it personal, but come on. I notice when you stop showing up the same way.

You still talk to me… sometimes. And when you do, it feels real — like nothing changed. Your messages still have warmth, like the version of you I miss is still there. But something still feels missing. Like you’re here, but not fully. And I don’t know what to do with that.

And I get it. You’re busy. People are busy. But I can’t lie, it still hurts. It’s not just about time, it’s about effort. You used to make time. Now I feel like I’m annoying you just by caring.

Why did you even make me feel like this mattered? Like I was someone. Like I was safe with you. Because now I just feel stupid. Sitting here trying to figure out if I’m even still on your mind.

Did you just get bored? Or was this just something to pass time with? Maybe it wasn’t that deep for you. I don’t know. I don’t even want to think that, but if you cared like you used to… wouldn’t I feel it?

I miss it. All of it. I miss how you looked at me. How we talked like we were the only two people who got each other. I miss feeling chosen. Now I just feel tolerated. Like I’m here because you haven’t told me to go yet.

And yeah, I could leave. Part of me wants to. But that’s not who I am. I don’t walk away just because things get weird. I try. I wait. I hope things go back to what they were. Even though, deep down, I kinda know they probably won’t.

I hate this. This space between us. This weird limbo. I don’t know if I should ask you what’s going on or just stay quiet. If I say something, I’m scared you’ll pull away more. But if I don’t, I feel like I’m slowly disappearing anyway.

I still see you when I close my eyes. Like, the version of you I fell for. And I want to believe that version still exists. That you’re just tired, or distracted, or something. But maybe I’m the only one who’s still holding onto that image.

Was this even real? Like… seriously. Was it just a fantasy I let myself believe? Did you ever really feel the same? Or did I just want it so bad that I ignored the signs?

I don’t want to overthink, but I already am. I’ve been overthinking for weeks. I just don’t feel like I matter anymore. Not in the way I used to.

You haven’t left. But you’ve stopped being here. And that might hurt even more.