【If（you及do及not及leave及me）】There are moments in life when the weight of silence becomes heavier than words. When someone stands before you, not speaking, yet their presence alone speaks volumes. That’s the kind of moment I’m in now — standing at the edge of a decision that feels both inevitable and heartbreaking.

"If you do not leave me," I say, but the words hang in the air like a question with no answer. It’s not a demand, nor is it a plea. It’s more like a whisper of fear, a quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

We’ve been here before. Not exactly the same situation, but the same feeling — the unspoken tension, the unasked questions, the lingering doubt. And every time, I find myself choosing to stay, even when my heart tells me to walk away.

But what if I don’t? What if I finally let go? What if I stop waiting for the moment when everything changes, and instead, I take the step that leads me somewhere new?

I know that love isn’t always about staying. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to let go, even if it hurts. But this isn’t just about love. It’s about survival. About protecting myself from the slow erosion of a relationship that no longer serves me.

So I ask again, "If you do not leave me..." — not as a command, but as a challenge. A challenge to you, and to myself. To break the cycle. To stop pretending that things can be the same when they never were.

Because sometimes, the hardest thing isn’t leaving. It’s staying. And if you choose to stay, then I have to ask: what are we really doing here? What are we building, or breaking?

This isn’t a goodbye. It’s not even a final word. It’s just a moment — a pause in the noise, a breath between the chaos. And maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of something real. Something honest. Something worth fighting for.

But if you do not leave me... then I have to decide if I’m ready to stay.