The Silence I Didn’t Choose

What if the one thing you feared the most actually happened? I used to live just to please other people. I would do whatever they asked, just to make them happy with me. I always made sure to impress them, hoping they would like me instantly. I constantly hoped they were glad to see me, that whenever something happened, they would think of me and call. I built an image of myself as their "one call away," even if it made me sad, exhausted, or left me feeling empty.

Even with strangers, I would smile widely, trying hard to be warm and approachable. I felt like I always had to make a huge effort to be liked. And whenever I cried about it, I would comfort myself by saying, "It’s okay, at least I have them."

But suddenly, I don’t know when or how it started. I stopped feeling that ache in my chest. I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t smile at people like I used to. I didn’t even greet them on their birthdays. It was as if something inside me quietly gave up.

And now, I catch myself ignoring messages, leaving people on read, showing no reaction at all. Just plain dedma. The weird part is that it’s not even intentional. It just happens. No drama, no anger, just silence.

What’s strange is that I still don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I turned out like this. It’s not healing. It’s not revenge. It’s just this blank space I’ve become. And it scared me. It scared me because I’m afraid that one day, I won’t care about them at all. That I’ll lose them not because they left me, but because I stopped reaching out. And the truth is, maybe that day has already come. Maybe what I feared the most didn’t just happen. Maybe it’s been happening all along, and I was too numb to notice.