Love is the most vulnerable
thing we ever hold—
clutch it too tightly,
and it cuts.
I learned,
with you,
to cradle love softly,
so when it slipped away,
the ache would not shatter me whole.
I loved you until I was blue,
my heart blooming,
my spirit bruised in the effort.
I spoke life into you,
hoped you'd see
the beauty I saw—
but you built walls,
brick by trembling brick,
and wept for the sunlight
you wouldn't let in.
I adjusted your crown
with trembling hands,
lifted you up
while you exhaled hope
like smoke from a dying fire.
I mourned us
long before the ending,
grieving the love
as it faded,
as you hid behind stories
I could never untangle.
You cried at the end—
was it a mistake
to give you my heart,
to place it—guarded—
in your trembling hands?
I swallowed lie after lie,
knowing truth was a country
I'd never cross.
Now, with the ending,
a weight lifts—
but my heart aches.
I know my friend
will drift away,
and I'll become
the villain in your story.
I crossed oceans
to bring you back,
kept every promise
knowing one day
you'd break mine.
Today I stand,
heart in hand,
saddened—
not because it's ruined,
but because it's changed.
Not in a bad way,
just in a sad way.
And I'll love you always—
but never again
at the cost
of losing myself.
I hope that one day
you will hold your head high,
that one day
you'll love yourself
as much as I once did.
That you'll be open to change
and not cower from it,
that your opinions
won't be an extension
of someone else's thoughts.
That you'll learn
it isn't the end of the world,
and "victim"
won't be a role
you continually audition for.
Remember you're strong.
Any pain you're in
will soon pass.
2k25,
a roller coaster was had—
and I don't regret it at all.
