Unopened

Love is often measured by what we give—our time, our energy, our patience, our presence. But some of the greatest costs are paid without recognition, accumulating slowly until we can no longer ignore them. No Receipt Needed is a reflection on unreciprocated love, emotional absence, and the quiet decision to choose differently.

No Receipt Needed

No tree.
No lights.

Nothing sweet left to mark the season,
no warmth to soften the cold.

Silence starves
without leaving hunger behind.

I learned to arrive alone,
explaining an absence
as if it were my own.

Gifts offered freely,
left unopened.

Not just the ones wrapped in paper—

the words I learned
not to speak,

the affection offered
without return,

the distance widening
despite my presence—

I watched them go,
still wrapped,
into the donation bin.

No receipt needed.

The cost
isn’t monetary.

I offered myself the same way—

with care,
with purpose,

all of me,

believing love
would be met
where it was given.

I didn’t choose the silence.

I lived with it.

Watched love wither
from neglect,
not absence.

And now,

I choose
what chooses me.