Riley and the Quiet Breakup:
Riley didn’t throw plates. There was no screaming match, no dramatic exit. Just a slow, steady unraveling—like a sweater pulled loose by one thread. They’d been together for years, and when it ended, it wasn’t because of betrayal or cruelty. It was because they’d grown in different directions, and neither could pretend otherwise anymore. Now, Riley was navigating the aftershock. Friends were getting engaged, posting anniversary reels, planning baby showers. Riley was learning how to cook for one again. How to sleep on just one side of the bed. How to answer “How are you?” without flinching. There was grief, yes—but also guilt. For not feeling “devastated enough.” For wondering if they’d wasted time. For still loving parts of what was, even while letting it go. Therapy wasn’t about rushing into closure. It was about making space for the quiet heartbreaks—the ones that don’t get sympathy cards or dramatic montages. The ones that change you anyway.
**This vignette is fictional, inspired by real-life themes clients often bring into therapy.