You talked about leaving like it was just another errand,
like it was something you had to do—
not something you wanted.
Not something that would leave me standing here,
watching the space you used to fill.

I used to love space.
The vastness, the quiet,
the way it stretched on forever without needing anything back.
But now the stars remind me of you—
always there, always distant,
never mine.

I tell myself I was just passing through your life,
like a comet burning bright before fading.
Maybe I was never meant to matter.
Maybe you never even noticed I was there.

And still—
I hate that I miss you.
I hate that after all this time,
one short message can make my whole day.
I hate that you will never know.
And I hate that even if you did,
it wouldn’t change a thing.