obediently yours

to the one who got away,

i’ve been thinking again about that day in the street, when you told me it was done. when i was still writing, still trying to save the page, and you had already closed the book. and i couldn’t change your mind. nothing i said could. i remember going to yours to get my things, and you said you were waiting to see if you felt anything when i got in the car. and you didn’t. and that crushed me. but then, on the drive to the station, you reached over and held my hand. interlocked our fingers. and i flinched. because i didn’t understand. and because you’d never seen me scared of your touch before. when i tried to hold it again, you said no. eventually you did, but i was so confused. why did you want to hold my hand tightly while you were walking away?

sometimes i wonder if i just wrote in the wrong font. if the sentences were too long. if the words were too messy. but that was my story. our story. and i wish you had given it more time to unfold. i deleted our final conversation. not because i wanted to forget you, but because that can’t be the way it ends for me, i had no choice but to remove them for my own health. i couldn’t keep reading the same final sentence, the one where everything turned. but still, part of me wonders if you ever go back to it. if you reread any of it. if you remember that letter and what it really said, not just what you chose to take from it.

you unfollowed me everywhere. except the place we met. the place i still post my feelings. i don’t know what that means. maybe it means nothing. but maybe not. i’ll never know. it’s hard not to assign meaning to little things when you’re starving for something, anything, to hold onto. i just hope you remember how hard i tried to make you smile when you were hurting. i didn’t want anything in return. i just wanted your smile.

i miss being your quiet. the one who calmed the noise in your head. the one you told made you feel safe. i still hear your voice in little things. words you picked up from me. phrases i picked up from you. i wonder if there’s still a bit of me living in you somewhere, even if it’s just a word you still say without thinking. god i love the little things that transcend everything, and you put words into my heart i never knew existed.

i’ve been trying to grow. to reflect. to become better. to become everything you ever saw in me. i’m in therapy. i’m changing. not to win you back, though of course i wish you’d notice, but because i have to live with this version of myself now. and i want him to be someone you’d be proud of. someone who would never let it all fall apart the same way again.

but it still hurts. not knowing if you regret it. not knowing if you even think of me when you hear my name. not knowing if your silence is peace or avoidance. you said you wanted us to work more than anything, and then a few weeks later, it was like i never existed. was it just the no contact? was it the mess i made trying to protect you in ways you didn’t ask for? was it something else i never understood?

sometimes i think i should block you. just to stop myself checking. but i never do. because then i’d be the one cutting the last string. and if you unfollow me, i want that to be your choice. in the meantime, i just leave little breadcrumbs in the hope you see them. maybe that’s pathetic. but it’s the only way i know how to still say: i’m here. because even with these boundaries that are so tight i can feel them round my throat, my love for you is still able to make noise.

i wish i could’ve been perfect from the get go, but doesn’t everybody. but you are my north star, my motivation and my strength, and even if i never get to look directly into your eyes again, i hope we catch eachothers glance in the reflection of the moon.

you said once that being with me made the rest of the world go quiet. and i guess i’ve just been trying to find that quiet again ever since.

i remain, as always, obediently yours