Question

Him
I dimmed the light that once felt mine,
a glow I never meant to lose.
I over-read the shadows,
let voices crowd the room
where only two hearts should’ve stood.

My friends stepped in uninvited,
their words sharp,
their timing cruel.
My best friend said things
I never thought I’d fear,
and suddenly love felt too close,too heavy for one heart to hold alone.

I lost him —
and the blame circles back to me.
A random Tuesday evening,
I broke us apart
pretending it didn’t hurt,
pretending I wasn’t shattering.
But I cried until the world blurred
and wished the pain would quiet.

He said he’d save her before me,
and though it stung,
I didn’t stop loving him.
Didn’t stop wanting him.
Didn’t stop trusting the way he held my heart.
We clicked so fastI thought I was dreaming,
and maybe I was —
maybe I never fully woke up.

He still lives in the corners of my mind,
in the quiet moments,
in the ache behind every breath.
I wonder if he feels the echo too,
or if I was just a passing joke
in a story he already closed.

Every time I think of him,
my chest tightens,
my breath stumbles,
and I wish he were here —
not to save me,
but simply to stay.