To stay stubborn and never show your true love is both a defense and a curse. It means locking your own heart behind pride’s iron gates.
You refuse to kneel before emotion, even when it screams inside you. You build silence into armor, turning every tender pulse into stone, convincing yourself that care is weakness. It’s not that you don’t love you love too deeply.
But that depth frightens you, so you let ego steer your soul. You hide your trembling softness behind a smile that wounds, believing power lies in indifference.
The truth is darker. Stubbornness rots the purest affection. It starves the bond that could have healed you. The longer you conceal love, the colder it becomes, until what once was warmth turns into poison.
The one who could have stayed drifts away, thinking you never felt enough, while you sit in the silence you created, pretending victory. But your heart knows you lost. This kind of pride is punishment a slow suffocation of your own spirit.
Yet, there’s beauty in the cruelty. It teaches you what love costs when stripped of honesty. It teaches that hiding your heart may protect you, but it will also make you a ghost in your own story. Staying stubborn wins the battle of appearances.
But love real, raw love dies quietly in the shadows of that pride. And when it’s gone, the silence will finally echo louder than your pride ever could.
You refuse to kneel before emotion, even when it screams inside you. You build silence into armor, turning every tender pulse into stone, convincing yourself that care is weakness. It’s not that you don’t love you love too deeply.
But that depth frightens you, so you let ego steer your soul. You hide your trembling softness behind a smile that wounds, believing power lies in indifference.
The truth is darker. Stubbornness rots the purest affection. It starves the bond that could have healed you. The longer you conceal love, the colder it becomes, until what once was warmth turns into poison.
The one who could have stayed drifts away, thinking you never felt enough, while you sit in the silence you created, pretending victory. But your heart knows you lost. This kind of pride is punishment a slow suffocation of your own spirit.
Yet, there’s beauty in the cruelty. It teaches you what love costs when stripped of honesty. It teaches that hiding your heart may protect you, but it will also make you a ghost in your own story. Staying stubborn wins the battle of appearances.
But love real, raw love dies quietly in the shadows of that pride. And when it’s gone, the silence will finally echo louder than your pride ever could.
