They met again.
Older, steadier,
but still, the same laughter,
spilling between them,
like nothing had ever changed.
Older, steadier,
but still, the same laughter,
spilling between them,
like nothing had ever changed.
He still carrying that good look.
Tall, handsome,
with that bright, wide smile,
a little laugh tucked beneath it,
and still pulling that goofy "ew" face,
to mock the world,
Tall, handsome,
with that bright, wide smile,
a little laugh tucked beneath it,
and still pulling that goofy "ew" face,
to mock the world,
like he used to.
And for a moment,
everything rushed back.
Those young, messy days,
the way he tried
even when he believed
he couldn’t give her the world.
The stolen glances,
the giggles over favorite coffee spots,
concert nights and reckless adventures,
his taste in music always surprised her,
and the way he once said her name
like it was his favorite song.
They were young,
still learning,
still building dreams.
Now, they've grown.
And yet,
the ease between them remains.
They talk for hours.
They make sense,
on the surface.
But she remember why they ended.
Why the match struck, but never caught.
His love came rough around the edges,
not untrue,
Just not complete,
not steady,
too uncertain.
And for a moment,
everything rushed back.
Those young, messy days,
the way he tried
even when he believed
he couldn’t give her the world.
The stolen glances,
the giggles over favorite coffee spots,
concert nights and reckless adventures,
his taste in music always surprised her,
and the way he once said her name
like it was his favorite song.
They were young,
still learning,
still building dreams.
Now, they've grown.
And yet,
the ease between them remains.
They talk for hours.
They make sense,
on the surface.
But she remember why they ended.
Why the match struck, but never caught.
His love came rough around the edges,
not untrue,
Just not complete,
not steady,
too uncertain.
Yes, their rhythm still dances like old songs.
Yes, together they still fit like a memory.
Yes, they look good side by side,
like a story worth telling,
a picture that still draws soft smiles.
But no,
he is no longer the ending her heart is writing toward.
Homes can be places we outgrow, too.
Sometimes,
she wonders why it was so hard
to love again.
To fall,
to feel,
to trust like she once did.
But then she’d remember.
Not every soul is ours to keep.
Some drift in like passing seasons,
meant not to stay,
but to echo who we once were,
and show us how the light has changed.
He was a stop,
not a destination.
And somehow,
that’s okay.
Yes, together they still fit like a memory.
Yes, they look good side by side,
like a story worth telling,
a picture that still draws soft smiles.
But no,
he is no longer the ending her heart is writing toward.
Homes can be places we outgrow, too.
Sometimes,
she wonders why it was so hard
to love again.
To fall,
to feel,
to trust like she once did.
But then she’d remember.
Not every soul is ours to keep.
Some drift in like passing seasons,
meant not to stay,
but to echo who we once were,
and show us how the light has changed.
He was a stop,
not a destination.
And somehow,
that’s okay.