never the same

was i better off before? be careful what you wish for

tick
tick
tick

that horrendous sound won’t stop—
the hours keep passing me by.

i see you engaging with posts,
and yet i stare blankly
at my unanswered message.

you said you felt unheard,
so i sent message upon message
trying to guess where i messed up—
you ignored every one
except the one where i asked
if you wanted to talk about it
or needed space.

you started with “hey babyy,”
that oh-so-familiar phrase
i used to feel in my chest,
but this time it fell empty—
no warmth, no glimmer,
just words.

then came “sorry about that,”
followed by “i needed space.”

i said, “that’s okay, i understand.”
you said, “thank you.”

so i tried again—
“baby, can you let me know next time you need space?
i was worried.”
“i love you so much that i was scared i lost you.”
“i miss you.”

i tried to change the subject
to things i knew you liked—
your favorite brands—
and for a moment,
you replied with excitement.
i thought maybe, just maybe,
we might be okay.

but then i said,
“i love you. you’re the only one i say that to.
not even my family or friends.”

ignored.

send pic of myself.

you replied, “you look so hot baby. i missed you.”

why does it feel like a lie?

you don’t know this,
but i cried over you twice yesterday.
i took my dog on endless walks
because my mother came to visit,
my sister was home—
and i didn’t want to worry them.

they don’t know about you.
i keep that part of myself private.
friendships are rocky enough—
they celebrate even when i make one,
and they take it harder than i do
when they fall apart.

so to tell them about you,
especially now,
when we’ve lost the foundation we had—
i’d rather not.

do you know you broke my heart?

earlier, i thought about how i wish
i never met you.

i wish i never knew what it felt like
to feel safe with someone
who said i was their entire world,
who promised to protect me
and then hurt me the worst.

and for that—
i hate you.

i hate you.
i hate you.
i hate you.
i hate that i shed even one tear for you.

and yet—
despite everything,
i still hope we come back from this.
but i fear i won’t be able to trust you again.

and for that,
i don’t know how much longer
i can pretend we’re okay.

because we aren’t.

i get that you don’t want to talk about it,
but i can’t ignore what happened.
i can’t live knowing i hurt you
and you won’t tell me how.

how do i know
if i’m making the wound deeper
when you won’t let me see it?

do you hate me?

my chest turns a spotted pink
when something eats away at me.
the anxiety shows on the surface—
i can’t hide how i feel.

if i’m being honest,
i’ve thought about breaking up with you.
but for some reason,
i just can’t.

because i wasn’t lying
when i said you were the first person
i ever said “i love you” to.
i wasn’t lying
when i said you were the first boy
i ever called mine—
the first to call me theirs.

you used to say it
with no hesitation in your heart.

i really thought i could trust you.
i can’t believe i was wrong again.

maybe love isn’t for me.
maybe i’m doomed
for romances that leave me
more broken than before.

i think this might be the last one.

i don’t like the version of myself
i become—
even in the loves
that feel fated,
that start with light,
they end with ruin.