This year,
I realized the amount of people I lost,
Not to fights, not to anger—
Just distance,
Growing quietly like something fading away,
Now, we don’t talk anymore.

Was it their fault?
Or mine?
Or was it no one’s fault at all?
Maybe some stories
Are meant to end this way.

I’ve always dreamed of a friend to call mine.
Not in a strange way,
But like in the movies,
Where the main character has their person—
The one who stays
Through thick and thin.

But me?
I’ve always been the side character.
The third wheel in a trio,
The face in a crowd,
Never the one anyone chooses.

Even when surrounded by laughter,
I was alone.
I didn’t see it then,
But I do now.

There were moments, fleeting and sweet,
When I thought, I found my people.
But “my people” never lasted.

And when I thought I’d found them,
It ended—
Always faster than I imagined.
They disappeared,
Or they let me down.
No in-between.

This is how it’s always been,
And deep down,
I don’t think it’ll ever change.