Done With Life: The Quiet Ending

I’m done with life — completely, finally.
Still, that doesn’t give you the right to disrespect, gaslight, or manipulate me.

I’m not angry.
Instead, I’m finished.

Stop playing games — your guilt trips, your sudden kindness, your need to control every scene.
Even while you watch a movie, “make a shower,” or fry your hair, your distractions cannot erase the damage.

I’ll nod, let you win, and walk away.
I refuse to wrestle with pigs.
After all, I don’t need to roll in the same dirt to prove I’m clean.

Meanwhile, keep your version of the story.
You’ve rehearsed it too long to forget your lines.

If you ever cared, you wouldn’t twist the narrative.
Instead, you would face the truth, even when it burned your tongue.

Don’t hand me pity disguised as peace.
Don’t dress manipulation as love.
And don’t offer respect you never meant to give.

Go ahead — rewrite your story, play your part, polish your pride.
Yet leave me out of your performance.

I’m not here to fight a cause or hold anger as proof of pain.
I’m here to end it — quietly, completely, and on my terms.

I am done with life the way it dragged me into endless cycles of control and chaos.
Now, I feel freedom in this ending.
Finally, I let the storm rage without touching me.

No scripts.
No rehearsals.
No explanations.

I take my peace, my clarity, my dignity — and I walk away.

I am finished.
I am quiet.
I am free.
I am done with life, finally, on my own terms.