somewhere, i lost her

“i met her when i wasn’t ready and maybe she wasn’t either but something about the way she smiled felt like home before i even knew i was homesick. we talked like we had forever laughed like nothing could break and in between the silence, i was learning how to love without scaring her away. i never told her not properly. just hints in late-night texts, songs i sent at 2am, and poems she never read. there was always enough of her to keep me hoping but never enough to keep her staying. i held on— soft at first then tighter like maybe if i tried harder she’d stay. but the tighter you hold someone the more they slip. and she did. slowly, quietly, like a goodbye i didn’t hear until it echoed. i blamed timing blamed myself blamed the versions of me that never felt like enough. i told everyone, “i just want her to be happy” but deep down, i wanted her to miss me like i still miss her. truth is, i don’t know when it ended. maybe it never started. maybe i was just in love with the idea of her— of us. but still, every time it rains, i think of her car’s headlights disappearing in the dark and me standing there, watching her go with all the words i never said crashing in my chest. they say you can love someone and still let them go. so i did. i let her go without asking her to stay. i don’t say her name anymore. but in case she’s out there, reading this, and wondering if i ever meant it— yes, i did. and if you’re her, you already know this was about you.”