Kecewa

Sometimes love is like a marathon without a finish line - you run, you gasp for breath, you give it your all, and then on the podium, instead of a medal, you get an indifferent look and a slight gesture, as if the whole race was just your personal whim. Your throat hurts from the words that were not said, and your heart seems to be singing in “connection error” mode. Everything has been given, everything has been proven, and in response - only demonstrative arrogance and someone else's ego in the spotlight. And all that remains is to exhale - not because you have forgiven, but because you no longer have the strength to be angry.