i wanted it to work so badly that i started mistaking effort for alignment. i thought that if i loved you harder, listened longer, bent a little more, we would eventually meet in the middle and call it home. i kept waiting for the moment where loving each other would suddenly become easy. where the friction would turn into understanding instead of exhaustion.
but love doesn't erase difference. it only illuminates it.
you moved through life one way, i through it another. we kept reaching for each other from opposite sides of the same room, hands almost touching, both convinced that wanting it was enough. and maybe that's what hurt the most. there was no villain here, just two people trying to translate languages they didn't naturally speak.
i started noticing how often we misunderstood each other even when we were saying the same words. how comfort to me felt like pressure to you. how silence to you felt like distance to me. we kept apologizing for being ourselves and that's when i realized love had turned into negotiation instead of refuge.
i didn't want to admit it because love felt rate. because you were good in ways that mattered. because i saw your heart and you saw mine and i thought that should count for something bigger than compatibility.
but love is not a bridge by itself.
it's the willingness to cross, and we kept walking in different directions.
i tried to convince myself that compromise meant shrinking. that if i just softened enough, if i just adjusted my needs, we would finally fit. but every time i folded myself smaller, something inside me went quiet. and i don't think love is supposed to require disappearing.
you loved me the best way you knew how. i loved you the best i knew how. and somehow it still wasn't the same shape.
there is a grief that comes with knowing no one did anything wrong. it would be easier if there was betrayal or anger, or a clean reason to walk away. instead there's just this slow understanding that two good people can still be wrong for each other.
i wish love alone could hold us together. i really do.
i wish wanting you was enough to make our lives line up, our needs make sense, our futures face the same direction.
but love is not always meant to stay. sometimes it arrives to teach you the difference between connection and compatibility.
sometimes it asks you to let go even when your heart is still full.
and maybe the hardest truth is this.
i don't love you less. i just finally understand that love cannot turn two different futures into one. i kept hoping we would grow toward each other, but we kept growing sideways, quietly drifting while still holding hands. now i'm forced to leave gently, carrying all of the love we had like something fragile, we could have loved each other forever, just not in a way that would have let us survive it.
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 12:33 AM UTC
Sometimes the spark is loud,
all teeth and gravity,
a body leaning toward another body
like it’s finally remembered its purpose.
Sometimes chemistry is just the language of heat—
how quickly you burn,
how easily you mistake fire
for warmth.
Compatibility is quieter.
It lives in the pauses.
In the way someone asks your name again
even though they already know it,
just to hear how you say it.
In how they stay
when there’s nothing to impress.
Chemistry will make you believe in maybes.
It will dress potential up like destiny
and ask you to be patient with neglect,
to romanticize almost,
to call hunger passion.
But reality has a weight to it.
It shows up as unanswered needs,
as conversations that never deepen,
as love that only exists
when it’s convenient.
There comes a moment
soft but unforgiving
when you realize you’ve been loving the idea
of who they could be,
while they keep showing you
exactly who they are.
And that is the grief.
Not that it didn’t work,
but that you stayed,
hoping chemistry would learn
how to hold you.
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 8:26 PM UTC
There’s a quiet loneliness in being welcomed into someone’s world without being asked about your own. In being wanted close, but not wondered about. They make room beside them, but never reach for what lives underneath the surface.
They talk freely, openly, as if being heard is enough for both people. Meanwhile, the other person learns how to listen without being met, how to exist without being studied. It’s a strange thing to be present and still feel unseen.
Care, when it lacks curiosity, begins to feel performative. Like proximity is mistaken for intimacy. Like love is assumed rather than practiced. And over time, the absence of questions becomes its own kind of answer.
Because to care is to wonder. To ask. To lean toward someone’s inner life. And when that doesn’t happen, what’s missing isn’t love, it’s attention.
Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 8:14 PM UTC
I’m realizing that betrayal doesn’t always arrive dressed in infidelity, sometimes it comes quietly, wearing the familiar scent of someone you trust. Sometimes it sounds like laughter drifting from rooms I’ve never been welcomed into, feels like a thread between two souls woven so tightly that my presence can’t loosen a single knot. It’s watching two people move like twin moons, orbiting each other with a gravity I can’t interrupt, pulling tides in each other that don’t move for me no matter how still, how steady, how patient I stand.
It’s the whispered jokes, the ease of their closeness disguised as coincidence. It’s devotion hiding behind convenient explanations. It’s the way a heart settles into someone else’s hands as if it’s been living there for lifetimes, while offering me the illusion of a place it never fully makes room for.
I call it "friendship" because that’s the name I’m given, but my spirit the oldest part of me knows better. It feels like being loved in flickers of light while someone else basks in the full sunrise. It feels like sitting at the edge of a table where the nourishment never quite reaches me. It feels like pouring myself open to someone who keeps giving their tenderness away before it ever reaches my door. And so I’m left holding questions heavier than any answers they’re willing to paint pretty.
And the body never lies. Her body speaks in truths her mouth refuses to articulate. The way she leans in without noticing. The way she lights up like a match touched to oxygen. The way her eyes soften, drop, bloom as if looking at home. She may not hear herself, but I do. My heart does. My intuition the part of me built from women who survived every kind of truth does.
It’s in the comments that slip through the cracks, the ones she doesn’t know she’s confessing. The praise that sounds like longing trying to disguise itself as casual. The loyalty that feels like a vow, whispered to someone who isn’t me. And I’m left trying to understand how I’m supposed to feel chosen when the softness, the warmth, the instinctive affection all flow in one direction and I am standing on the other side of it, empty-handed.
Because I may be the romantic partner, but someone else holds her emotionally. Someone else carries her in the places I’ve been trying to reach. Someone else gets the version of her that breathes freely, that loves effortlessly, that shows up without needing reminders. And this isn’t insecurity this is clarity. This is the truth that reveals itself when the heart stops accepting half-love and starts reading the energy between words.
It’s understanding that what she calls friendship feels like a home she’s already built in someone else, while asking me to survive off the fragments. It’s realizing that love isn’t always stolen through kisses sometimes it’s stolen through comfort, through habit, through soul-ties disguised as something harmless.
Because if she’s your person… who am I?
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 4:13 PM UTC
its hard to revisit what destroyed me
I've just began healing.
life without you was like giving up my favorite drug,
I was addicted you.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 5:22 PM UTC
i have drifted under your skin
seeped through your pores down to the marrow in your bones
i have consumed the soul,
the part of you that you like to keep hidden
because you are too fragile to show it willingly.
how is that i was so easily invited
when you have kept that part of you locked away for so long?
how is it that you allow me to enter that sacred space?
what is it you see in me?
flowing through your veins
i am comfortable here existing within you
traveled in with one gentle kiss to your lips.
inhale, i have risen life into you once again
your heart has grown daisies, your eyes have grown deep,
starry like the universe you carry within you.
Thank you for allowing me to unfold the layers of your heart.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
Your clear eyes a see of accumulated raindrops,
started to ripple
as I touched the surface.
In your depths I dived;
neither sinking nor losing air-
never drowning despite the rough waves
of unchartered waters.
With no fear of trenches
as deep as the Mariana's
or fear of undercurrents
as mysterious as the Bermuda's
I sought further to know
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC
The seasons have changed,
its gotten cooler outside, the leaves have fallen.
I'm up on a Sunday morning trying to figure out
where we went wrong.
I have had a change of heart and its not your fault.
I just believe that our time is up.
I cannot be the woman you want,
Ive tried to convince myself that I loved you
but my subconscious reveals the truth every time
I'm fighting with myself.
You say I'm building a wall,
I'm just trying to fade fast so that you don't fall
I don't want to be the reason you hurt,
I don't want to be the reason you break
please just leave me be,
I hope you one day find a woman who can nurture your heart the way you need
She's not me.
I'm sorry, darling.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 11:10 AM UTC
Allow me to be
your coffee in the morning,
four sugars two cream.
give you the taste test
of the sweetness I bring.
I want to raise you up
both ways,
and at night I’ll be your whiskey
you can kneel and get drunk off my love.
I want to drip in your finesse,
bless me with your holy water
baptise me.
dive in to my skin
cleanse me of my sins..
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC