We used to be easy.
No strain, no pretending.
Just laughter stretched across hours,
and silences that didn’t need filling.
I liked having you around.
I liked how light everything felt,
when you were near.
You said things like
“I love hanging out with you,”
and I smiled,
because I felt the same.
Maybe not the kind of love
you were hoping for.
But something real.
Something I thought would last.
And then one day,
you wanted more.
And I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
Didn’t know how to give you
something I didn’t feel.
I didn’t lie.
I just couldn’t follow you there.
That’s when the quiet unraveling began.
Slow, like threads slipping loose
from a sweater you wear too much.
We stopped talking as often.
Stopped laughing the same.
And I told myself,
“This is fine. This is still something.”
Even when it wasn’t.
You said, “If this doesn’t happen, please don’t disappear.”
But YOU did.
Like a season that ended early.
No warning. No storm.
Just vanished.
And I’m left here.
a little bit mad,
a lot more sad,
missing you in ways I can’t admit out loud.
I didn’t want this to end.
Not like this.
Not a memory I avoid brushing against.
Not a name I pause at,
then scroll past.
I won’t chase silence,
won’t stand where I’m no longer seen.
I was never meant
to be someone’s maybe.
If this is how you let go,
then this is how it ends.
Not with anger,
just the quiet ache
of something unfinished
that won’t be returned to.
You were my friend.
Maybe that was everything.
But wasn’t enough.
I didn’t think we’d fall apart without even falling.
And yet,
here we are.
No strain, no pretending.
Just laughter stretched across hours,
and silences that didn’t need filling.
I liked having you around.
I liked how light everything felt,
when you were near.
You said things like
“I love hanging out with you,”
and I smiled,
because I felt the same.
Maybe not the kind of love
you were hoping for.
But something real.
Something I thought would last.
And then one day,
you wanted more.
And I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
Didn’t know how to give you
something I didn’t feel.
I didn’t lie.
I just couldn’t follow you there.
That’s when the quiet unraveling began.
Slow, like threads slipping loose
from a sweater you wear too much.
We stopped talking as often.
Stopped laughing the same.
And I told myself,
“This is fine. This is still something.”
Even when it wasn’t.
You said, “If this doesn’t happen, please don’t disappear.”
But YOU did.
Like a season that ended early.
No warning. No storm.
Just vanished.
And I’m left here.
a little bit mad,
a lot more sad,
missing you in ways I can’t admit out loud.
I didn’t want this to end.
Not like this.
Not a memory I avoid brushing against.
Not a name I pause at,
then scroll past.
And if leaving
was the choice you made,
to turn away,
to move on quietly,
then I suppose
that’s yours to live with.
We are no longer young enough
to blame it on timing.
We choose,
even when we pretend we don’t.
I won’t chase silence,
won’t stand where I’m no longer seen.
I was never meant
to be someone’s maybe.
If this is how you let go,
then this is how it ends.
Not with anger,
just the quiet ache
of something unfinished
that won’t be returned to.
You were my friend.
Maybe that was everything.
But wasn’t enough.
I didn’t think we’d fall apart without even falling.
And yet,
here we are.