the love we never carried

You didn’t have to say much.
A glance, a pause, the way your voice softened
was enough to keep me here.
You never asked for all that I gave,
but you didn’t turn it away either.
And so I stayed.
Not because I was lost.
But because something in you felt like home.

I walked beside you quietly,
never demanding more than you could give.
But you offered something once,
something with weight.
I held onto it like it meant everything.
Because to me, it did.

Time passed.
Moments piled into memories.
You showed me parts of you
that no one else sees, or so I thought.
You pulled me close without ever saying why.
Then one day, without a word,
you let me slip through your fingers.

There are things you never said
that I still hear.
Things you promised
that still echoes in me
when the night is quiet enough.

And yet, here I am.
Only a little bent.
More careful
with where I place my light.

If you ever remember me,
let it be in the stillness
before you turned away.

Let it be in the breath
I never asked you to give back.

Let it be in the knowing
that I loved you,
even as I learned
that we were never in love.