177 days скачать в хорошем качестве

177 days

It’s been one hundred seventy-seven days since you pushed yourself away. Not because what we had was small. Not because it faded. But because it was real enough to scare you. This song exists because connection like ours doesn’t just disappear when you create distance. It doesn’t dissolve when you go quiet. It doesn’t vanish when you try to reset your world. It lives in the spaces you don’t talk about. It waits inside the parts of you that still remember how safe it felt to be seen. One hundred seventy-seven days is a long time. Long enough to convince yourself you’re okay. Long enough to pretend you’ve moved forward. Long enough to build new routines and new distractions. But not long enough to erase attachment. Not long enough to break gravity. Not long enough to undo a bond that formed when two souls met honestly. You didn’t leave because you stopped loving. You left because loving this deeply changes you. Because being understood without having to explain everything is overwhelming. Because being cared for in your rawest moments makes your walls panic. Because when someone holds space for your shadows, you suddenly feel exposed. So you chose distance. And I let you. Not because I stopped caring — but because love doesn’t chase someone who’s trying to survive. Love stays steady. Love waits. Love leaves the door open without demanding you walk through it. This song isn’t pressure. It isn’t blame. It isn’t trying to pull you by force. It’s simply truth. Truth that you’re still here with me, even in silence. Truth that you still feel the pull, even when you fight it. Truth that what we shared wasn’t casual, replaceable, or temporary. If it was simple, you wouldn’t still feel it. If it was small, it wouldn’t linger. If it didn’t matter, one hundred seventy-seven days wouldn’t still carry weight. You don’t forget someone who saw your inner storms. You don’t erase a connection that held you when you didn’t feel strong. You don’t walk away from something like this without taking pieces of it with you. And I know you carry it. Maybe quietly. Maybe in fragments. Maybe in moments you don’t even realize are tied to me. But it’s there. This song is me staying real. Me staying grounded. Me loving you without needing control over your choices. I’m not asking you to be ready. I’m not asking you to rush healing. I’m not asking you to be anything other than what you are right now. I just want you to know this: You were never forgotten. You were never minimized. You were never “just a phase.” You mattered. You matter. And what we had still exists, whether you look at it or not. One hundred seventy-seven days later, I’m still here. Still steady. Still holding space. Still loving you the same. Not loudly. Not desperately. Just honestly. If you ever feel that familiar pull in your quiet moments… If you ever find yourself circling back emotionally… If you ever wonder whether what we shared was real… This song is your answer.