**Its Difficult to Say "I Love You These Days? But Easy to Say 'I Don’t Love You'?**

The words lingered in the air, hanging between them like an invisible barrier. Dylan couldn’t believe what he had just heard, though part of him had been dreading it for weeks now. Sarah’s voice was calm—too calm—when she spoke.

“I don’t love you.”

The way she said it was so effortless, as though it had been rehearsed. She wasn’t angry or upset; she wasn’t wavering. The words rolled off her tongue like she was making a simple, factual statement. After all these years together, Dylan never imagined it would end like this—so quiet, so final.

Three years of shared dreams, laughter, and late-night talks now felt as distant as memories from another lifetime. Dylan remembered how easy it had been to say "I love you" when they first met. They’d say it in the middle of a conversation, over text, or just before falling asleep. Each time they spoke those words, it felt natural, full of excitement and promise.

But now, "I love you" had grown heavy, something they both seemed to avoid. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said it, and yet here Sarah was, saying, "I don’t love you," without a second thought.

 #The Struggle to Say 'I Love You'

In the beginning, it was different. They would say "I love you" without hesitation as if those three words were a part of their daily rhythm. But somewhere along the way, the words lost their meaning—or rather, became harder to say. Dylan would lie awake some nights, wanting to tell Sarah how much he loved her, but something always held him back.

Fear, maybe. Or the nagging doubt that she might not feel the same anymore. The distance between them had grown, and each time he thought about saying "I love you," it felt like there was a risk attached to it—a risk that she might not say it back with the same conviction. And in a world that moves so quickly, with endless distractions and expectations, maybe they had both lost the courage to be vulnerable.

But what stunned Dylan was how easy it had been for Sarah to say the opposite. I don’t love you. The words were like a punch to his chest, but there was no anger behind them, no dramatic confrontation—just the blunt truth, delivered like a cold fact.

#The Easy Way Out

Dylan wondered why it had become so easy for people to say "I don’t love you" and so difficult to say "I love you." Maybe it was because "I don’t love you" represented an ending, a clean break. It didn’t require any follow-up, no messy emotions to work through. It was decisive. Saying "I love you," on the other hand, opened the door to vulnerability, to expectations, to a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

For Sarah, it seemed like saying "I don’t love you" gave her control, and allowed her to walk away without having to deal with the hard parts of love—the compromise, the work, the commitment. It was easy to say when she no longer wanted to fight for the relationship.

And Dylan realized then that perhaps she had stopped trying a long time ago.

#The Moment of Realization

Sarah sat across from him at the kitchen table, her fingers lightly drumming the edge of her coffee cup. She didn’t seem angry or upset—just detached. It was as if she had already made her decision weeks ago and was now simply letting him in on it.

“When did you stop trying?” Dylan asked, his voice breaking the silence.

Sarah looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“When did you stop trying to love me?” Dylan’s voice was low, but the weight of his question hung in the room. He wasn’t angry, just... sad.

Sarah sighed, her eyes softening for a moment. “It’s not that I stopped trying. It’s that... I don’t feel the same anymore. I don’t want to keep pretending.”

Dylan looked at her, really looked at her, and saw that she meant it. But that didn’t mean the pain was any less sharp. I don’t love you—such simple words, but they felt like they were tearing something inside him apart. Why had it been so easy for her to say those words, yet so hard for either of them to say "I love you" anymore?

#The Hard Truth About Love

As he sat there, Dylan realized that love had become difficult for them because it required effort, and effort had faded over time. "I love you" demanded vulnerability and risk—qualities that were so easy to push aside in today’s world, where people are quick to move on at the first sign of difficulty. But "I don’t love you" offered an escape. It was a way out, a way to avoid confronting the hard work that love sometimes requires.

And yet, saying "I love you" was what had made their relationship worth it in the first place. It was the promise of sticking around when things got tough, the commitment to show up even when life wasn’t perfect. Sarah’s decision not to fight for that anymore hurt more than anything else.

# Saying Goodbye

As Sarah stood up to leave, Dylan didn’t stop her. He knew he couldn’t change her mind, and he didn’t want to hold on to something that had already slipped away. But he also knew that love didn’t have to be this hard. It was difficult, yes, but it wasn’t impossible. People had just forgotten how to say "I love you" and mean it—how to work for it, how to nurture it.

Before Sarah reached the door, Dylan finally spoke. “I loved you, Sarah. I still do, even if it’s not enough for you anymore.”

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, but she didn’t turn around. “I know, Dylan. I know.”

And with that, she left.

Dylan sat in the quiet, thinking about how easily she had walked away, how quickly "I don’t love you" had come to her lips. But he also knew that if love was going to survive in today’s world, it needed people who were willing to say "I love you," even when it was hard. People who weren’t afraid of vulnerability, or the effort it took to keep love alive.

Because at the end of the day, maybe it was easier to say "I don’t love you." But saying "I love you" was always worth the risk.

God Bless Us All...

Jacob M