FRAGMENTS · 2026-09-30
For a while,
I thought I could keep us alive
by trying harder.
So I kept reaching out.
I kept making space.
I kept finding ways to understand
the distance between us
without asking too much from you.
I held on to the smallest things.
A reply.
A moment of warmth.
A sign that you still cared
in the same way I did.
And whenever something felt different,
I told myself to be patient.
I told myself you were busy.
I told myself you needed time.
I told myself that if I stayed long enough,
we would find our way back
to each other.
But I was the only one
still trying to find the way.
You did not ask me to leave.
You did not ask me to stay.
You simply became harder to reach,
while I kept standing
in the same place,
hoping you would turn around.
I did not stop caring about you.
I just became tired
of carrying every conversation,
every hope,
every reason for us
to still mean something.
I became tired of feeling like
I had to keep proving
that what we had
was worth saving.
Maybe you were already letting go
in ways I did not want to see.
Maybe I was holding on
because I was afraid
that letting go would mean
I had failed you.
But this is not giving up.
It is letting love exist
without forcing one heart
to keep the entire connection alive.
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FRAGMENTS · 2026-09-02
We ended things well.
At least, I thought we did.
So when you became quiet,
I did not know
what to do with it.
I was not asking
for more than you could give.
I was only wondering
if something had changed—
or if you were okay.
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FRAGMENTS · 2026-07-22
Right now,
I am just letting things be—
you receiving my love,
me receiving your silence.
Does it hurt?
Yes.
But I would rather
feel the ache honestly
than pretend
I do not care at all.
So I keep loving you
in the only way
I know how—
without asking
you anything in return.
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FRAGMENTS · 2026-06-08
We still shared
the same mornings—
asked what to eat,
reached for the light,
moved around each other
as though nothing
had changed.
But I had begun to notice
how carefully
I held on to us.
I did not know
if you felt trapped.
I only knew
I wanted your life
to feel like yours—
even if I could not
be part of it.
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FRAGMENTS · 2025-06-15
Timing is strange.
It never arrives when you beg for it.
You prayed for a door to open,
but the handle stayed cold in your grasp.
You reached out when your heart was brave,
but the moment was not.
And so you waited—
aching,
silent,
afraid
that the right time
would never come.
The days moved.
The world spun.
People hurried.
But in you,
something stayed behind.
A question without an answer.
A hope without a place to land.
And so it lingers—
like breath held too long,
like words trapped behind your teeth.
You smile,
you nod,
you keep moving—
but deep inside,
you still turn toward
what could have been.
You replay the pauses,
the silences,
the small delays
that cost you everything.
You wonder…
maybe the universe was kind,
holding back what you thought you needed.
Maybe it was cruel,
letting you taste ‘the almost’,
but not the whole.
Either way—it stayed.
Quiet. Stubborn. Unfinished.
They say what is meant will always find its way.
But no one warns you how long the waiting feels.
How it curls beside you in the dark.
How it breathes with you when you cannot sleep.
How it lingers—not to comfort, but to remind.
To remind you that—
the moment you needed most,
the one that never came,
still stays with you.
It shapes you.
It changes you.
And you carry it—not as weight,
but as a gentle truth:
not all things come in their time.
Some simply stay—softly,
slowly,
resonating.
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