You loved him first,
Your heart whispered his name
Before he even knew
The weight of your flame.
You met him first,
Shared laughter, shared time,
Held moments like fragile glass
Hoping he’d make them shine.
But he looked elsewhere,
Eyes catching someone new,
And all your quiet devotion
Faded into a soft, aching hue.
You loved him first—
And maybe that’s enough.
Even if he chose another,
Your heart learned to be tough.
A memory of loving first, yet not being chosen—a quiet ache that stays with you.