I have always thought that love is something that ends quietly. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/e76ad9/620x0/1/0/2025/03/26/cw62s6teqlo5Unmwosrmsz4v alt = "from life taken." I left my husband for the younger & quot; styles = "background-color: rgba (64.55,42,1)" > < p > that it burns slowly & ndash; like a candle.

< p > that after years of relationship routine comes, fatigue, lack of SLE < p > I began to feel that life leaks through my fingers.

< p > and then he appeared & ndash; younger, energetic, full of delight.

< p > He looked at me as a woman, not for part of the furniture at home.

< p > m & oacute; I was beautiful. That I should be happy. That I deserve something more.

< p > and me & hellip; I believed.

< p > m & oacute; Jer, was a good man. Calm. Predictable.

< p > After years of the & oacute life I knew every gesture, every habit, every sigh.

< p > until I finally stopped hearing them.

< p > and one day I said:

< p > — & AMP; BDQUO; I go away. < p > did not shout. He just looked at me sadly, which I will never forget about the oacute;

< P >& Amp; MDASH; & AMP; BDQUO; I hope you find what you are looking for. < p > I lived with that. New life was exciting. At the beginning.

< p > but in time I began to see things that I didn't want to see before.

< p > He was jealous. Absent. He didn't want to talk about the future. Everything was & bdquo; for a while &.

< p > When I mentioned the co -& oacute apartment, it disappeared for three days. When M & Amp; Oacute; I felt about my feelings, he rolled his eyes. One day I was in an empty apartment.

< p > with a ticket to the theater in the hand. I was supposed to get it for my birthday.

< p > but he didn't come. Did not call.

< p > left a message:

< p > — & AMP; BDQUO; I'm not ready for serious things. You probably haven't been. < p > I was alone. Without him. Without a husband. Without home.

< p > with pride buried under the choice, which & oacute; ry was to make me happy.

< p > Several weeks passed before I dared to knock on the door, which I once closed with me.

< p > m & oacute; Jer has opened. White hair. The same good eyes.

< p > but the look is not the same. It was & Hellip; cautious.

< p > — & AMP; BDQUO; What do you want ? & rdquo; & Amp; MDASH; asked quietly.

< p > — & AMP; BDQUO; WR & AMP; Oacute; If you still have me. < p > silence.

< p > the longest in my life.

< p > — & AMP; BDQUO; WR & AMP; Oacute; You can. But love … she doesn't come back so easily. “& Amp;

< p > closed the door.

< p > did not slam them.

< P > Simply & Hellip; closed.

< p > and I stayed on the other side of the decision, which & oacute; rej can no longer be undo.

< p > because sometimes what seems to be a new beginning turns out to be the end of everything.

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116