different eyes see different things

What You Saw Wasn't What I Meant

You thought I was pulling away. I was just quiet.
You thought I didn’t care. I was trying not to fall apart.
You thought I didn’t love you enough. But I was loving you the only way I knew how—with everything I had, even when it didn’t look like much.

Different eyes see different things.

You saw silence as distance. I saw it as safety.
You saw my patience as weakness. I saw it as strength.
You thought I stayed too long. I thought I was being loyal.

And maybe we were both right.

Because pain has its own vision. So does fear.
So does love.

You saw someone who forgave too easily.
I saw someone who believed too deeply.
You saw someone naive. I saw someone hopeful.

We were in the same moment, the same room, the same story, but we were reading different pages.

You looked at me and saw someone you could leave. I looked at you and saw someone I would have fought for.

That’s the thing no one tells you
The truth isn’t always a single thing. It shifts. It bends. It reflects who we are, what we need, what we’re afraid of.

And if your eyes are looking for a reason to run, you’ll always find one.
If mine are searching for a reason to stay, I will too.

Different eyes see different things.

But now, my eyes are different.
Wiser. Sadder. Clearer.
I see what I didn’t want to admit before:
That love, real love, doesn’t depend on one person seeing it all.
It lives in both perspectives.
And dies when only one remains.

---