You shook the Magic 8 Ball,
asked for the name of your first love.
“It said lightning,” they laughed.
A silly trick on a starstruck child.

Love didn't strike like that for you.
You tried to be the perfect first lover,
measured love in time, not in touch.
That’s where you went wrong.

No matter how much you gave,
something in you felt broken.
He was caring but distant,
reaching for more of something you couldn't provide.

You scrambled to prove your devotion,
but he never asked you to.
Love, for him, was something quieter,
something you mistook for fading.

You were two missing pieces in the wrong puzzle,
a girl who feared she wasn't enough,
a boy who never needed what you thought love should be.

No matter how hard you tried,
you were never meant to fit.
Maybe, if you’d known sooner,
you wouldn’t be haunted by
the ghost of what was never meant to be.