π Did she ever love you?
I don’t even know what to think about love anymore.
I gave seven years of my life to someone I truly believed in. I met her when I was 21. Young, broke, trying to find my way in a world that never gave me much. She was 18. And despite everything I lacked—money, status, stability—she stayed.
I thought that was love.
I thought staying power was proof. That surviving the struggle together meant we were building something unbreakable. I kept telling her, “Someday we’ll laugh at these moments… we’ll be alright, just don’t give up.”
But as the years rolled on, I started noticing the shift. She wanted the date nights. The surprise flowers. The getaways I couldn’t afford. And I could feel her patience thinning.
After we broke up, she shared a post. It said:
“I’m too old for a relationship that isn’t leading me anywhere… I want vacations, date nights—all of it.”
And I realized something painful…
Maybe love wasn’t enough for her anymore.
Maybe it never really was.
And that hurts—not because she left—but because it makes me question everything.
Did she love me? Or just the idea of me… until that idea didn’t come with enough rewards?
It makes me wonder:
Does love really exist if it only lasts when things are good?
Shouldn’t love ride out the storm too?
I don't have all the answers.
But I know what I gave was real.
And if love like mine isn’t enough for someone,
then maybe they were never mine to begin with.
For Empress, always.
— Jaes

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