Absolutely — “They Didn’t Cheat… But They Did.”
They were loyal — just not loving.
Faithful with their body, careless with my heart.
They didn’t cheat — but they didn’t show up either.
Never fixed what hurt, only told me I was too sensitive for feeling it.
They didn’t lie — just avoided truth.
Turned every question into a storm, every concern into an argument.
They never touched another person,
but somehow, I still felt replaced — by distance, by pride, by silence.
They didn’t cheat,
but they let me sleep with a heavy heart more nights than I can count.
They watched me turn quiet,
and instead of reaching for me, they let the silence win.
They stayed faithful — but not present.
I was in love with someone who had already drifted away.
Close enough to keep me hoping,
far enough to keep me hurting.
They didn’t leave,
but they never really stayed either.
Just lingered — enough to keep me from moving on.
Not gone. Not here.
Just hovering in the in-between.
They didn’t cheat,
but I had to beg for attention that should’ve been freely given.
Beg for time.
Beg for effort.
Beg to be seen by someone who kept looking everywhere but at me.
They didn’t cheat,
but they forgot how to love out loud.
How to listen without turning it into a fight.
How to hold a heart they said they wanted.
They didn’t cheat,
but they taught me how painful almost-love can be.
How loyalty means nothing when there’s no care behind it.
They didn’t cheat —
but they still broke me.
Piece by silent piece, word by missing word,
until I realized betrayal doesn’t always wear another person’s name.
Sometimes, it just looks like apathy.
Sometimes, it just sounds like nothing at all.
They were loyal — just not loving.
Faithful with their body, careless with my heart.
They didn’t cheat — but they didn’t show up either.
Never fixed what hurt, only told me I was too sensitive for feeling it.
They didn’t lie — just avoided truth.
Turned every question into a storm, every concern into an argument.
They never touched another person,
but somehow, I still felt replaced — by distance, by pride, by silence.
They didn’t cheat,
but they let me sleep with a heavy heart more nights than I can count.
They watched me turn quiet,
and instead of reaching for me, they let the silence win.
They stayed faithful — but not present.
I was in love with someone who had already drifted away.
Close enough to keep me hoping,
far enough to keep me hurting.
They didn’t leave,
but they never really stayed either.
Just lingered — enough to keep me from moving on.
Not gone. Not here.
Just hovering in the in-between.
They didn’t cheat,
but I had to beg for attention that should’ve been freely given.
Beg for time.
Beg for effort.
Beg to be seen by someone who kept looking everywhere but at me.
They didn’t cheat,
but they forgot how to love out loud.
How to listen without turning it into a fight.
How to hold a heart they said they wanted.
They didn’t cheat,
but they taught me how painful almost-love can be.
How loyalty means nothing when there’s no care behind it.
They didn’t cheat —
but they still broke me.
Piece by silent piece, word by missing word,
until I realized betrayal doesn’t always wear another person’s name.
Sometimes, it just looks like apathy.
Sometimes, it just sounds like nothing at all.
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