When her voice no longer comes home.

 When Her Voice No Longer Comes Home

---

I used to know the sound of her thoughts.
They'd arrive like quiet footsteps at my door — soft, unfiltered, almost sacred. She’d share her random musings, her complaints about work, the way the sun hit the curtains just right in the afternoon.

But these days… her voice no longer comes home.

I still hear it sometimes — not through the phone, not in person, but in my imagination. I wonder what she’s telling himnow. The new him. The one who gets the updates first. The one who now occupies the space I once did.

I don’t hate her.
I just ache in silence.

I once believed that if I stayed gentle, if I stayed present, she might find her way back. But love doesn’t work that way. Not when it’s shared in the shadows. Not when the voice that used to soothe me now soothes someone else.

I’m not angry. I’m just… displaced. What I need is an internal closure, not anymore from her confession but it's my mindset and shift of engagement. 

She says she feels bad when I feel pain. She broke down on our calls, overcome by the flood of old memories. Maybe she still loves me — maybe not. But the emotional transfer is real. And I can feel it. Every time she chooses not to tell me something. I can feel every inch of it. Every time she says too much to him.

logic says: She has no obligation. Let go.

emotions say: But I still care. I still want to know

instinct says: Something doesn’t feel settled or fully transparent.

But it doesn’t stop the hurt when I feel like I’m standing outside a window, watching a home I once lived in being repainted by another’s hand.

And yet I still whisper to the silence at night,
"Please just speak to me again like you used to."

– Burn