DOES ABANDONMENT TAKE A PART OF US AWAY?

I think we deeply underestimate what certain departures truly do to us internally. Because deep down, abandonment does not always destroy who we are. Sometimes, it destroys something more subtle. The way we trust. Sometimes even the way we love.

I believe there are certain departures the body remembers for a very long time. Even when life keeps moving forward. At first, we do not even understand what is changing inside of us. We become more guarded without meaning to. More silent sometimes.

We start thinking twice before showing someone how much we care. As if loving sincerely had become something dangerous.

One of the hardest things about abandonment is that for a long time, we convince ourselves the problem must come from us. We wonder what we should have done differently. So we replay everything. The words we maybe should not have said. The moments when we were too sensitive. Too intense. Too available. Not detached enough.

And eventually, we begin to feel ashamed of the way we love. Ashamed of being this affected. This sincere. This attached.

We start wondering why some people seem so easy to love while everything in our own lives always seems to fall apart in the end.

For a long time, I believed that if certain people left, it was because I was not important enough for them to truly stay in my life.

Then I finally understood something painfully lucid: Some people do not even know how to stay present in their own lives properly.

So naturally, the moment a relationship becomes deep, they run. Not always physically.

Sometimes they stay. They still reply. But emotionally, something has already closed inside of them. So they begin to sabotage things. They disappear. Sometimes they come back. But never completely.

I think that is what destroys us the most. Not just the departure itself. But continuing to love someone who has already left emotionally.

And suddenly, everything becomes heavy again.

Not only because we miss them.

But because they take away with them a version of ourselves we loved becoming.

Meanwhile, you keep trying to save a version of the relationship that no longer exists in the other person’s mind.

The replies become different. The silences become heavier. You begin to feel like a burden.

Like you have to think before speaking. And without even realizing it, you slowly begin abandoning yourself just to keep someone who is already leaving internally.

I think there is something deeply tragic about trying to be heard by someone who no longer listens to you.

Because eventually, the heart grows exhausted from speaking alone. Yet somehow, we still insist. Because we tell ourselves that love deserves one more fight.

That maybe we just need to be a little more patient.

A little more understanding. But sometimes, that moment never comes back.

Deep down, there is something even sadder than abandonment itself.

It is the moment when two people silently realize they are no longer meant to move forward together… but stay anyway.

Not because they still love each other the same way. But because they are afraid of what comes after.

So the relationship continues.

We still talk. We still see each other. We still try sometimes.

But something feels wrong.

As if two people kept walking side by side while deep down, their hearts had already started moving in different directions.

That is when relationships truly become painful.

Not when love disappears completely.

But when you begin to feel that something which once felt natural now has to be forced.

So we keep insisting. Trying to recover the old connection. The old feelings. The old versions of ourselves.

But some relationships do not need more effort.

They simply require us to accept that they have reached their end. Sometimes, knowing how to leave at the right moment is a greater act of love than staying until you destroy each other.

Maybe deep down, healing from abandonment is not about learning how to live without certain people.

Maybe it is about stopping ourselves from killing our hearts with memories.