I fell in love
with a boy I was never supposed to touch.
Not because he was cruel,
not because he did not love me back,
but because another girl
loved him first
and left pieces of herself
inside his bones.
My friend.
She speaks about him
like a house fire—
something beautiful
that burned too hot to survive.
And I sit beside her
pretending my hands are clean
while hiding sparks in my mouth.
Because he looks at me differently now.
Not with the empty politeness
people use to survive each other,
but with recognition.
Like somewhere along the line
I became familiar to his soul.
It is a dangerous thing
to be understood by someone
you cannot have.
Sometimes I catch him staring at me
when laughter fills the room,
and there is something devastating
in the way he quickly looks away—
like we are both trying
to protect a crime
that has not happened yet.
My friend would hate me for this.
Not for loving him—
love happens accidentally—
but for letting him love me back.
That is the unforgivable part.
So I silence myself daily.
I carve my feelings smaller,
teach them how to fit
inside casual conversations
and unfinished sentences.
I become an actress
in my own life.
I say, “We’re just friends,”
while my heartbeat betrays me
like thunder behind closed doors.
And the worst part is—
he understands.
There is grief
in the way he keeps his distance.
A sadness in how carefully
he speaks to me,
as if one wrong word
could collapse everything.
Sometimes I wonder
if we would have loved each other openly
in another universe.
One where loyalty
did not demand self-destruction.
One where timing
was kinder to people like us.
But this universe
gave me his almosts.
Almost holding his hand.
Almost kissing him.
Almost hearing him admit
what already lives
between every glance.
So instead,
I carry him quietly.
Like stolen light
hidden beneath my skin.
And maybe that is what heartbreak truly is—
not losing someone,
but meeting the right person
at the wrong moral crossroads
and choosing pain
because you still want to be
a good person
when this is over.
May 18
May 18, 2026 at 11:31 PM UTC
I fell in love
with a boy I was never supposed to touch.
Not because he was cruel,
not because he did not love me back,
but because another girl
loved him first
and left pieces of herself
inside his bones.
My friend.
She speaks about him
like a house fire—
something beautiful
that burned too hot to survive.
And I sit beside her
pretending my hands are clean
while hiding sparks in my mouth.
Because he looks at me differently now.
Not with the empty politeness
people use to survive each other,
but with recognition.
Like somewhere along the line
I became familiar to his soul.
It is a dangerous thing
to be understood by someone
you cannot have.
Sometimes I catch him staring at me
when laughter fills the room,
and there is something devastating
in the way he quickly looks away—
like we are both trying
to protect a crime
that has not happened yet.
My friend would hate me for this.
Not for loving him—
love happens accidentally—
but for letting him love me back.
That is the unforgivable part.
So I silence myself daily.
I carve my feelings smaller,
teach them how to fit
inside casual conversations
and unfinished sentences.
I become an actress
in my own life.
I say, “We’re just friends,”
while my heartbeat betrays me
like thunder behind closed doors.
And the worst part is—
he understands.
There is grief
in the way he keeps his distance.
A sadness in how carefully
he speaks to me,
as if one wrong word
could collapse everything.
Sometimes I wonder
if we would have loved each other openly
in another universe.
One where loyalty
did not demand self-destruction.
One where timing
was kinder to people like us.
But this universe
gave me his almosts.
Almost holding his hand.
Almost kissing him.
Almost hearing him admit
what already lives
between every glance.
So instead,
I carry him quietly.
Like stolen light
hidden beneath my skin.
And maybe that is what heartbreak truly is—
not losing someone,
but meeting the right person
at the wrong moral crossroads
and choosing pain
because you still want to be
a good person
when this is over.
