When Love Starts to Feel Heavy

I don’t know when it changed—only that it has. Chris doesn’t make me happy anymore, and that realization sits quietly in my chest like a stone I’ve been carrying too long. It’s not one big moment, but the slow drift, the way my requests feel like interruptions, the way his presence sometimes feels more like pressure than comfort.

Yesterday, something shifted again. He wasn’t cruel or cold—just different. The way he spoke, the things he focused on—they felt off, almost grating. For the first time, I noticed how much I brace myself before saying his name. I wonder if love can fade not with a breakup, but with a series of small silences.

I don’t want to carry this weight anymore. Not because I’m angry, but because I miss feeling light. I miss being with someone who meets me halfway, who doesn’t make me feel guilty for needing them. Maybe letting go isn’t about blame—it’s about choosing peace.