I didn't get a chance to say
I was enamored with how honest you were to me
and how trusted you made me feel
when you told me the small things about you that others wouldn't admit,
like how you judge books by their covers
or dislike people who act like fans of musicians after only hearing their new songs
when you were a fan before they blew up (haha).

Everything about you felt sincere,
so when you said you wanted to be friends
you might have really meant it,
but the last time we spoke face-to-face
the clock in my car had the correct time
and the last time you texted me first
I still had so much to look forward to in 2020.

Since then, I've been in a constant state of in-between focusing on myself and asking you how you've been,
but I don't feel regret when I see you and
I don't feel as sad to see you happy & surrounded.
So I'm relieved,
because what was and could have been is behind me.

But now, I can't shake off this constant habit of comparing myself to you and to the person you wanted me to be.
All I think about now bounces from wanting to be better and feeling like I'll never be good enough (for anyone),