I feared the ache of heartbreak,
so I locked my heart tight,
but love is persistent,
it knocked until I gave in.

He chased me with patience,
waited through my silence,
and when I finally said yes,
he became mine.

But now he steps back,
not with anger,
just the quiet withdrawal
of someone unsure.

Was it fear that gripped him?
Or a laziness to fight for love?
Because if you ask me—
I still want him.

Not just the memory,
not just the comfort.
I want him,
a better him,
a willing him.

Maybe in another universe,
he stays.
Maybe there, he chooses me
again and again—
not out of need,
but because he can’t imagine
life otherwise.

And though I ache,
and though he may never look back—
I don’t want someone new.
I just want him.