Supernova
There was a girl— No, not just a girl. A force, a phenomenon, a moment in time too vast to hold, too bright to last.
With her, the chaos quieted. The tyrant laid down his crown. The god complex, the reckless mind, the insatiable need to test, to push— all silenced in her gravity.
I did not drown with her. I did not burn. I simply was. For the first time, I was.
But time is cruel, and so is distance. We were children once, then we weren’t. A year of absence turned her from a memory into something too real. Too much. Too fast. And before we could grasp it— it was gone.
The things that ended us were nothing. A stumble, a crack in the road, an inconvenience so small it should have been forgettable. But the weight of something that could have been everything made even the smallest fracture fatal.
She was not the love of my life. She was not my greatest heartbreak. She was something worse— the proof that it was possible. That someone, somewhere, could make me more than what I am. And I lost her.
She was a nova to me. I have no insecurity in that. But I wonder—was I even a candle to her? Was I more than a flicker, more than just a passing glow? I really couldn’t tell you.
I doubt she could either. Or at the very least— I know she’d never tell me.
(Cannot tell you how many version of this I wrote how differently it all ended, as if they were all different stories. Hauntingly beautiful to me how one person can make you live through a thousand experiences)
Posted Mar 21, 2025, 11:03 PM UTC