Bhardwaj_writes11

You once held my name
          	like it meant something—
          	like it mattered.
          	Your words wrapped around me
          	like warmth in winter,
          	soft, convincing, safe.
          	
          	You said I was different.
          	You said I was home.
          	
          	And I believed you
          	oh, I believed you
          	with all the fragile pieces
          	I was still trying to fix.
          	
          	Slowly,
          	the cracks inside me
          	began to heal,
          	because you stayed,
          	because you cared,
          	because you made it seem
          	like I was enough.
          	
          	But healing is a dangerous thing
          	when it rests
          	in someone else's hands.
          	
          	Because one day—
          	without warning—
          	your attention shifted.
          	Like a light
          	that forgot where it once belonged.
          	
          	And suddenly,
          	I was standing in the dark
          	watching you glow
          	for someone new.
          	
          	A stranger,
          	who now knows your stories
          	before I do.
          	Who hears your laughter
          	the way I used to.
          	
          	Tell me—
          	was I ever special?
          	Or just available?
          	
          	You said I was important,
          	yet here I am—
          	waiting in silence,
          	while you give someone else
          	the time
          	you once gave me so easily.
          	
          	And the worst part?
          	It’s not even you leaving—
          	
          	It’s the way
          	you made me feel safe enough
          	to lower my guard,
          	only to remind me again
          	why I built walls
          	in the first place.
          	
          	Now every insecurity
          	you once quieted
          	comes back louder,
          	sharper,
          	heavier.
          	
          	I question everything—
          	every word,
          	every moment,
          	every "I care"
          	you ever said.
          	
          	Because if I truly mattered,
          	would I feel this replaceable?
          	
          	I’m still here—
          	in the same place
          	you left me—
          	
          	Waiting
          	for someone
          	who already moved on.

Bhardwaj_writes11

You once held my name
          like it meant something—
          like it mattered.
          Your words wrapped around me
          like warmth in winter,
          soft, convincing, safe.
          
          You said I was different.
          You said I was home.
          
          And I believed you
          oh, I believed you
          with all the fragile pieces
          I was still trying to fix.
          
          Slowly,
          the cracks inside me
          began to heal,
          because you stayed,
          because you cared,
          because you made it seem
          like I was enough.
          
          But healing is a dangerous thing
          when it rests
          in someone else's hands.
          
          Because one day—
          without warning—
          your attention shifted.
          Like a light
          that forgot where it once belonged.
          
          And suddenly,
          I was standing in the dark
          watching you glow
          for someone new.
          
          A stranger,
          who now knows your stories
          before I do.
          Who hears your laughter
          the way I used to.
          
          Tell me—
          was I ever special?
          Or just available?
          
          You said I was important,
          yet here I am—
          waiting in silence,
          while you give someone else
          the time
          you once gave me so easily.
          
          And the worst part?
          It’s not even you leaving—
          
          It’s the way
          you made me feel safe enough
          to lower my guard,
          only to remind me again
          why I built walls
          in the first place.
          
          Now every insecurity
          you once quieted
          comes back louder,
          sharper,
          heavier.
          
          I question everything—
          every word,
          every moment,
          every "I care"
          you ever said.
          
          Because if I truly mattered,
          would I feel this replaceable?
          
          I’m still here—
          in the same place
          you left me—
          
          Waiting
          for someone
          who already moved on.