Is it better to have loved and lost

than to have never loved at all?

Well—you tell me.

Every time I see that face,

I wish I could turn you back into a stranger—
so the sting in my chest could fade

back into ignorant bliss,

unbeknownst to the pain of love.

When I look at you I see
the boy I told,

“I could never be loved,”

who smiled and swore
he could see the love that exudes
from the cracks of my soul
,
What beautiful words

that once lit up my heart,
now make it scorch,

and burn.

But even through all that...

I still miss you.

And I miss you that little bit more

when our song plays on the radio,

and when I watch our favourite movie—

again and again.

It’s the third time this month
that I’m listening to your voice note
you know, the one before our first date
I mouth the last words with a sting in my eyes
‘see you tomorrow my love.’

I say,
I hate you.

So why do I still feel sad

it’s over?

So please tell me,
because I still don’t know
is it better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all?