Love slipping away

Created By PhonkFM. I used to come home and find you waiting at the door, eyes bright like you’d been counting down the minutes. You’d ask how my shift was, even when I was too tired to string more than a few words together. That kind of care—you can’t fake it. And I loved you for that. But lately… things feel heavier. I get up before sunrise, pull on scrubs, tie my hair up, and head to the hospital while you’re still in bed. Another 14-hour shift of emergency alarms, quiet hallways filled with grief, and lives balancing on my hands. I come home to a dark apartment, and there you are—right where I left you. Same couch. Same look in your eyes. And no job to tell me about. No stories. Just silence and that quiet tension we never name. I didn’t fall in love with you because of what you do. I fell in love with how you see the world, how you saw me—but now, I’m not sure if you even notice when I walk through the door. It’s not about money. It’s not even about work. It’s the stillness. The waiting. The way you’re stuck and I can’t pull you out. I’ve tried to be patient. I am patient—it’s part of who I am. But love doesn’t survive on memory alone. I miss you. I miss us. And I’m scared that the longer this stretch of quiet lasts, the more I’ll stop reaching for you. Not out of anger… just out of habit. Maybe you don’t see it happening. Or maybe you do, and you just don’t know what to say anymore. But I do. And it’s this: Please move. Please try. Please show up—not just for me, but for yourself. Because I’m still here. For now. But even the strongest heart has limits.