To The One Who Got Away..
I didn’t expect you to become a chapter this fast,
a whole story stitched into my days
before I even learned your middle name.
You moved into my spirit like sunlight
slipping under a door I forgot I left open,
and everything felt right
in that tender, impossible way that makes a man rethink the walls he built.
Then one night arrived
with messages sharp enough to cut the quiet.
Accusations I couldn’t recognize.
A storm I didn’t cause,
but somehow got swept into.
I watched your words push me outside your world
before I even had time to understand the weather.
And then you vanished.
Blocked.
Gone.
Like you chose to dissolve the whole connection
while I was still reaching for your hand in the dark.
I replay our moments
like a song that never got the proper ending,
a melody stuck between my ribs
asking me why something that felt ordained
turned into a bruise overnight.
Part of me wants to chase you,
knock on every door your silence built
and say
I never betrayed you,
I never had a reason to.
I was choosing you
even before you realized I was yours.
But another part of me stands still,
arms crossed with pride whispering
let her go
let her ghost herself into memory
like she wasn’t the softness you prayed for.
Truth is, I miss you.
Not in a desperate way,
but in that honest way a man misses
what felt peaceful,
what felt like finally.
And if you come back
I wouldn’t hand you apologies I don’t owe,
I’d hand you clarity,
space for your heart to unclench,
room for us to speak without the shadows.
But until then
I’ll keep this quiet ache to myself,
because loving someone who ran
feels like holding a door open
for someone who never looked back.
Still…
if you ever wonder
whether you mattered,
whether you were felt,
whether you were the spark in a week
that felt like a whole lifetime…
the answer is yes.
You were the one who got away
before she realized
I was never planning to.
