Halcyon

istillwanthim

it always starts one fateful night,
when everything feels right—
until it isn't.

he pops the question,
voice trembling.
"we're young," he begins,
and i already know where he's going.

"i haven't felt like this in so long," he says,
he pauses. he waits.
this is where i should've told him
i felt it too.
but i just looked away.

my voice found the answer
before my heart could.
i told him i didn't feel the same.
i saw the moment
he realised i wasn't joking.

denial comes dressed in devotion.
he said, "we're fine, i can change.
i'll give up anything, everything
in a heartbeat.
even if you think we've got
a sickening chance,
i'll take it.
please, just say yes."

but i said the cruellest thing:
"i can't say yes entirely,
so i won't say it at all."

he cried through the night,
and i did the worst thing possible—
nothing.
a coward wrapped in lion's pride.
every heartbeat begged me to stop,
but i still said no.

months passed.
my heart, proud and foolish,
pretended to heal.
and when i finally thought
i could love again,
no one ever did it
like he did.

once bitten, twice shy.
half-written texts,
mirror-practised confessions,
a ghost of a chance.
my "no" was stitched
with trembling hands,
and the thread's coming loose
every time his name lights up
somewhere that isn't my phone.

maybe if he asked again...
i'd say yes.
a flimsy yes, whispered,
or a resounding yes,
yelled into the dark
but still, a yes,
a thousand times yes.

i still want him,
in ways i can't confess
without sounding like a rerun.
i told him to leave,
and now i curse myself
for being obeyed.

i would've lost my mind
if i hadn't come clean
but it's too late.

it always ends one fateful night,
when everything feels right—
until it isn't.

i pop the question,
voice trembling.
"we're young," i begin,
and he already knows
where this is going.

"can we give it another shot?" i ask.
i pause. i wait.
this is where he should've said
a resounding yes,
and that he awaited this moment too,
but he just looks away.

his voice found the answer
before my heart could
even pretend to get ready.
he told me he didn't feel the same.
he saw the moment
i realised he wasn't joking.

devotion comes dressed in denial.
i say, "i screwed up,
but i still love you,
i can't get you out my system,
even if you think we've got
a sickening chance,
i'll take it.
please, just say yes."

he tells me
the cruelest thing:
he has someone else now,
someone who lights up his world,
the way he once said i did.

if this is irony's game,
congratulations to it
for playing so damn well.
i missed the boat,
can't leave the shore.

i still want him.
but he wants someone else now.