3:18 PM — Three Days Later
It's been a few days.
She said she needed time.
Not distance forever.
Not a breakup.
Time.
But he keeps pushing.
Not aggressively.
Just desperately.
Checking in.
Asking where her head is.
Asking if she still loves him.
Trying to close the gap before it widens.
I can see what he's doing.
He thinks if he keeps reaching, she won't drift further away.
But she's not drifting.
She's standing still.
She told him they can't be together the way things are now.
Not because she stopped caring.
But because he has too much going on in his life.
Too much instability.
Too much self-doubt.
Too much unresolved noise.
She said he used to be what she needed.
That part hurt him the most.
"Used to."
But I think what she meant was:
You were my stability once.
Now I need someone who is stable on their own.
And that's different.
I respect her for that.
She didn't say he's unworthy.
She said he needs to sort his life out first.
Work on how he sees himself.
Stand on his own before trying to stand with her.
I didn't realize relationships required that level of alignment.
I thought if two people loved each other enough, that was it.
Apparently not.
Apparently two people have to choose each other —not cling to each other because they're scared to fall alone.
There's a difference.
He's afraid of losing her.
She's afraid of losing herself.
And those are not the same fear.
I think he thinks time means she's slipping away.
But I think time is the only thing that might save them.
If he lets it.