For the longest time, I thought she had stopped loving me. She hardly complimented me. She wasn't the type to post pictures of us or send long romantic messages. Birthdays came with simple gifts, nothing extravagant.

Meanwhile, I was the opposite. I believed in saying "I love you" often, planning surprises, and celebrating every little milestone. The more I gave, the more I expected the same in return.

It became a silent frustration. One day, after another argument, she looked at me and said, "You keep asking what I say, but you never notice what I do."

That stayed with me. She was the one who woke up early to prepare breakfast before I left for work. She remembered every important appointment. When my father was admitted to the hospital, she was there before I arrived.

She loved deeply. She just expressed it differently. Unfortunately, by the time we truly understood each other, too much resentment had built up. We ended the relationship with respect, but also with regret. Looking back, I would choose love again. Not because we were perfect, but because I now understand that people don't always love the way we expect them to. Sometimes love is quieter than we imagine.