By whoever dares to remember him.

~~

He was never mine, but my heart never learned that language.

It kept reaching..stubborn, foolish, like a flame trying to burn through rain.

I met him on a day that didn’t mean anything, and yet, it ruined every day after.

He wasn’t kind. Not in the way people describe kindness.

He was distant, like a storm that refuses to explain why it came.

But there was something about the way his silence felt louder than other people’s words.

He looked at the world like it was a secret he didn’t trust anyone with.

And somehow, I wanted to be the one he’d tell.

He never did.

We were almost something. Almost.

And the word “almost” became the ghost that lived in my chest,

haunting every heartbeat that dared to remember his name.

I kept him in my poems, in the pauses between my laughter,

in the quiet when everyone else had gone home.

He stayed there, perfectly unreachable.

And maybe that’s where he belonged.

Because love like ours wasn’t meant to bloom...

it was meant to burn beautifully and end quietly.

She: He was never mine to lose, yet somehow, I’ve been losing him ever since.

"**The man i could never have**"

He wasn’t a chapter.

He was the book I was never allowed to finish.

He existed like forbidden scripture...

every word I wanted to read, every sin I wanted to commit.

There was nothing kind about the way I loved him.

It was hunger.

It was prayer.

It was the kind of love that makes even God turn away.

He never promised me forever.

He never even promised me tomorrow.

And yet, I kept waiting for him in every lifetime,

as if patience could rewrite destiny.

He would walk into a room and everything else blurred...

the noise, the world, even me.

And maybe that was the curse..

he made me forget I existed outside of his shadow.

I loved him like a secret war..

one I kept losing, one I didn’t want to end.

He was the peace I could never touch,

and the chaos I couldn’t let go of.

People say love should heal.

Ours destroyed... beautifully, deliberately.

And maybe that’s why I still whisper his name

as if saying it one more time will undo the distance between us.

< **If souls had fingerprints, mine would still be stained with his**.

“**The Girl I Let Go**”

She thought I didn’t love her.

Maybe that was my fault .. I loved her too quietly.

Too much in the pauses, not enough in the words.

She wanted warmth.

I gave her distance.

She wanted forever.

I gave her moments that almost felt like it.

The night she left, she didn’t cry.

She smiled.. that cruel, gentle kind of smile

that says “you lost me, but I won’t make you feel guilty about it.”

And maybe that hurt worse than any goodbye.

She never knew how many times

I hovered over her name,

typing something and then erasing it...

because every word felt smaller than what I felt for her.

People say silence is peaceful.

But the kind between us was loud..

loud enough to drown out everything I never said.

I saw her once, months later.

She looked happy.

The kind of happy that made me wonder

if maybe breaking her heart

was the only kind thing I’d ever done for her.

> She was never mine.. but the truth is, I never stopped being hers.