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She Loved Him More Than Herself — And That Was The Problem
She thought love would keep him. She was wrong.
I watched her fall in love the way some people sink into the ocean – slowly at first, then all at once, without realizing how deep they’ve gone until their lungs are screaming for air.
She didn’t just love him. She needed him.
Maybe that was the problem.
I saw it in the way she spoke about him, the way her eyes lit up when he texted back, the way her voice curled around his name like it was something sacred.
But there was something else beneath the surface, something restless and urgent – an invisible tether tying her worth to his attention.
She didn’t just want his love; she wanted proof of it. Constantly.
He must have felt it too. The way she clung a little too tightly, held on a little too desperately, like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go even for a second.
And maybe he was afraid of that too.
Because, one day, he did.
Not in a slow unraveling, not in the way lovers sometimes drift apart like seasons changing. No, he left overnight. One moment he was hers, the next he was another woman’s husband.
