Forever To Silence Episode 5(final)

There was no dramatic ending. No apology. No last conversation to give me closure. Folarin simply disappeared from my life like someone who had finished using what he came for.

I called him many times after that. Not to beg, not to fight just to hear his voice one last time, to understand how love could turn into silence so easily. But he never picked. He never called back. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Eventually, I understood the truth: I was no longer part of his world.

I stopped calling.

What hurt almost as much as losing him was how his family changed toward me. The people who once called me “our wife” began to give me cold, unwanted attitudes. Some avoided my calls. Some spoke to me with quiet blame, as if I was the one who failed. No one asked how I was coping. No one acknowledged my pain.

That was when I realized something painful but powerful when love ends, you often lose more than one person.

I had every reason to be bitter. Every reason to curse, to fight, to expose. But I was tired. Tired of carrying anger on top of heartbreak. So I did the only thing my soul knew how to do.

I left everything to God.

I stopped asking why me and started asking what now. I prayed not for revenge, but for peace. I asked God to judge rightly, because I knew some battles were too heavy for human hands.

Slowly, I began to move on.

Not all at once. Not easily. Some mornings I woke up strong, other mornings I cried without warning. But this time, I didn’t judge myself for the tears. I let myself heal honestly.

I rediscovered parts of me I had abandoned while loving Folarin. I focused on my work. I laughed again real laughter, not forced smiles. I learned to enjoy my own company. I learned that being alone did not mean being empty.

I stopped seeing myself as a woman who was left and started seeing myself as a woman who survived.

I forgave him not because he deserved it, but because I deserved peace. I forgave his family too, even though they never apologized. I refused to carry bitterness into my future.

Today, I am stronger.

I no longer beg for love. I no longer measure my worth by someone else’s attention. I know now that loving deeply is not a weakness it is a gift. And anyone who fails to value it simply wasn’t meant to keep it.

I never heard from Folarin again.

And that silence, which once broke me, became the sound of my freedom.

Because in losing him, I finally found myself.