As It Comes….I Will Remain … Schanntel

Tell me—how is this love?
When every day with you feels like a test I never studied for.
When your words reopen wounds I never agreed to carry.
You reflect pain I buried, pain I prayed I’d never see again.
And I ask God, why him? Why this lesson?
What is it in me that attracted this storm, this weight, this war?

What karma am I repaying?
What strength are You trying to grow in me?
Because I’m tired, God.
Tired of being the strong one.
Tired of being the one who understands, the one who bends, the one who bleeds quietly.

How broken do you want me to be?
I’ve given everything—my breath, my patience, my softness, my hope.
I’ve reached the end.
The end of pretending. The end of begging to be seen.
I took my final bow, and still, I stand here… asking what’s next?

This pain…
It hums now.
It doesn’t scream like it used to.
It knows me.
It lives in me like an old friend who overstayed their welcome.

He doesn’t see me.
He only sees what serves him—his needs, his world, his wounds.
And me?
I’m invisible in plain sight.
Unheard even when I cry out.
I’ve learned now: I was never his priority.
I was his comfort. His mirror. His punching bag for unresolved trauma.

So I ask again, God—why?
Why did you place me here, in this space, with this man, in this pain?
What do You want me to feel that I haven’t already felt?
I’ve felt it all.
The rise, the fall, the silence in the middle of the night.
The loneliness while lying right beside him.

But through it all, I hear You.
I feel the harmonies, even in the ache.
The whispers of truth floating through me.
And maybe… just maybe, this wasn’t about him.
Maybe this was about me—
Learning what not to accept.
Learning that love without peace isn’t love.
And learning that sometimes, the lesson isn’t in holding on…
It’s in knowing when to let go.