She was locked inside a cage of his making. One lined with bars of jealousy, low self-esteem, fear, and untrust. A cage of his insecurities. As time passed, the cage became smaller, the bars thicker, as she fought against her captivity.
She was drowning in his misery, and despite how many times she showed him that she was gasping for air, he continued to hold her underwater. He suffocated her spark, the very thing he loved so much about her.
She was something he had to control, to mold into what he wanted her to be. She needed to grow, to flourish, but he couldn’t see that. She was a butterfly, trapped in his cocoon, struggling to break out, and show the world her beauty, her uniqueness.
She loved him dearly, but his inability to change caused that love to slowly fade. So, she left him, only looking back once, drinking in a love that could have been. Then, she was gone, clutching her freedom closely.