Per my last silence, the message was delivered exactly as intended. Not overlooked. Not forgotten. Not delayed. Chosen. Silence wasn’t a gap in communication—it was the communication.
I didn’t go quiet to think. I went quiet because I’d already thought. I’d already noticed the patterns, the selective effort, the way clarity only showed up when it was convenient. Silence wasn’t confusion. It was conclusion.
People assume silence is an invitation to try again. To reenter. To renegotiate access. That assumption is the audacity. Silence isn’t a door left ajar. It’s a lock clicking into place without announcement.
Per my last silence, I stopped compensating. I stopped translating. I stopped offering emotional labor to make obvious things feel easier to swallow. When I withdrew my energy, what remained spoke louder than any conversation ever could.
Silence has a way of exposing entitlement. It unsettles people who relied on access without accountability. It frustrates those who expected reaction, reassurance, or availability on demand. That discomfort isn’t my problem to resolve.
I didn’t owe a closing statement once behavior closed the loop for me. I didn’t need to explain what distance already clarified. Silence didn’t leave things unfinished—it finished them.
Per my last silence, I chose precision over politeness. Finality over familiarity. Distance over debate. And I meant it.
Final Thought: Silence Isn’t a Pause
It’s a period.
Menace Disclaimer
This is not a follow-up.
This is not an opening.
This is not an invitation to interpret tone or intent.
“Per my last silence” means access is revoked, the conversation is closed, and any confusion you’re experiencing is yours to sit with.
No response required.
No clarification forthcoming.
Message received—whether you like it or not.
