I keep hoping this isn’t real.
That the person I gave my heart to
didn’t just walk off with it
like a weird souvenir,
like love was something you could collect,
not something you protect.
I keep hoping I didn’t dream this.
Didn’t build a whole life in my head
with someone who only visited mine.
My best friend, my confidant,
my safe space, my almost husband
turned stranger.
this isn’t how I imagined it.
Waking up with anxiety in my chest,
knowing you won’t ever be here.
No more nights wrapped in laughter,
no more mornings spent waiting
for a message that says I miss you.
The romance that never seemed to come
the words you never said,
the love I kept waiting for like rain
in a season that never changes.
I stayed up through endless nights
and early mornings,
waiting for a proclamation,
a confession,
a reason.
Something that said you see me.
Something that said you choose me.
But the reality is
when I think about love,
like unfiltered, worthy, true, and unbound love
the only person I ever wanted
to see me for who I am
was you.
But the silence was louder than your love ever was.
And still
I wake up and move through the day
hoping for that hello,
that I’m sorry,
that let’s make it right,
that you’re my one,
that I can’t stop thinking about you.
They said, “When you know, you know.”
And maybe I did.
Maybe I knew what love should’ve felt like,
and mistook your comfort for commitment.
Now I sit here
wondering, hoping, breaking.
Trying to rationalize what we were,
and mourning what we should’ve been.
I thought you were my forever,
but maybe you were just my lesson
in learning how to choose me first.
You didn’t just walk away
you left me holding the echo of a love
that never made it out your mouth.
But one day,
one day I’ll thank you
not for what you gave me,
but for what I finally found in myself
after you left.
Brielle K D
