Silent Currents

She used to flow toward him like the tide—

soft, constant, forgiving.
Even when he cast stones of blame,
even when his words pulled her under.

He called her feelings waves,
too much, too loud, too often.
But it was never the ocean that broke things—
it was the storm he refused to see.

She stayed,
carrying the weight of his gaslight in silence,
learning how to drown quietly in shallow waters.

Until one day,
she stopped reaching back.
No more crashes, no more cries—
just the hush of a current turning away.

He thought she didn’t care anymore.
What he didn’t know
was that she already let go—
while still standing in the same sea.

Because not all goodbyes are loud.
Some drift away
with the silent currents.