We thought we would lose each other to better people we would meet in the subway with charming smiles and eyes that talked like the stars. We thought we would lose each to people whose words would come out of our favorite books, whose thoughts were the other halves of our own. We thought we would lose each other to people whose skins were colored like sunsets and that the silhouettes in them were us.
I thought I would lose you to someone who would look at you like you were the moon. I thought I would lose you to someone who would sing you a lullaby of poetries in your dreams — to someone whose kiss could extinguish the sun and would make one out of you. You thought you would lose me to someone whose demons would haunt me better than yours. You thought you would lose me to someone my favorite books were named after — to someone who would undress me the way the autumn undresses the trees.
But honey, we were wrong for we lost each other to the forgotten good nights. We lost each other to the asteroid belts that descended between us. We lost each other to the spaces that grew from your skin to mine, to the hands that forgot how summer was brewed when they touched, to the kisses that told stories we no longer wanted to read.
We lost each other to the nights that made the falling stars leave the cosmos, to the nights we slept fighting and woke up with winters in our hearts. We lost each other to the tears that dropped in the coffees, tossed in the sink, to the songs that sounded like a battle cry and we were too drained to fight. We lost each other to the fact that I was once the sea and you were once the shore,
and that the sea stopped sending the waves, and the shore stopped making sand dunes for her.
We didn't lose each other to better people or to huge fights the rain has cheered for, or to the whims of fate. We lost each other to the little things. We lost each other gradually, and then all at once.
Honey, we lost each other to who we are now — we lost each other to the people we've become.