Love is both my truth for you and my pain from loving you

I sat here for days and days,

praying, begging,

for your arms again—

to wrap around me

and say you’re sorry.

I’ve cried and I’ve cried,

bled prayers into the silence with God,

because the ending between us

was so bad it felt like

falling onto someone else’s sword

and not knowing how to stand back up.

I couldn’t find the words then

for how you made me feel—

how everything twisted,

how it stayed lodged in my chest

like something unfinished.

And now I see it—

you’re not in the place

to receive softness anymore,

not even truth.

You hold onto your past,

your youth,

your dreams of being someone bigger, louder, untouchable.

But what we could’ve been

was something small and warm—

wrapped up in us,

simple like a burrito of peace

we never quite learned how to hold.

We could’ve been happy

like we were at the start.

Your addiction was a storm you fought,

and now I carry echoes of my own.

I wish I could still speak to you,

because some part of me knows

it wasn’t all cruelty—

even if that’s what they say you were.

But you’ll never read this.

You’ll never hear me.

You’ll never see me.

Because you are certain

that I am the one who broke everything.

And that is the most devastating part.

My parents loved you.

My father adored you.

And still, something in you

repeated old cycles—

disrespecting what was given freely,

not knowing how to stay present

with what you had.

You carry things I can’t fix for you—

old wounds, mental health, addiction,

and I only ever wanted you whole.

I only ever wanted you okay.

Maybe you are now.

But even here, even now,

in my weakest moments,

you are still the only man

I ever truly trusted.

And I miss you in the simplest way—

not as a story, not as a lesson,

but as a presence.

Even your big, ridiculous anaconda jacket green and black

feels like something I could disappear into

just for a moment of peace.

I shall not trust like us again I will not be able to because even not how distant we will forever remain you are still the man that saved me and still the one I firmly felt safe with