travelers
i was a substitute: someone you talked to while you got over someone you met before we did. i was the transition, how to pass time as you moved from point A to point B.
and i never knew how to keep people. i could never just hold on. part of me always wants to go, to wander, to roam. but then—
you were slipping away first.
so i made it into a competition, found you a replacement soon as you started to do the same. he was temporary—as you expected—but you found someone more comfortable with the word permanent.
and while i would rather avoid watching you showering her with your affection like you did with me, i couldn't help but stare. we were in the same town. we run in the same circles. every day, i felt a twinge turn into a pinch, intil it was squeezing, draining, heart-wrenching.
i always thought, but that was me, not so long ago.
despite telling myself that you were never the guy for me. you were a substitute, someone who showed up with bandages when my heart had scratches. you were the boost that i needed, all kind words and good intentions. but always wondering, curious, full of life.
see, i was never that girl for you.
i was just a tourist attraction.
but you were that guy for me.
you've always been my go-to destination.
