I wish I didn’t miss you—
not like this,
not in the quiet where your silence screams.
I wish I moved on like you did,
graceful,
as if love never lived here.

You don’t miss me—not like I miss you.
You don’t crave me in the hollow hours,
don’t check if I breathed you in my dreams.
You’ve unlearned the rhythm of us,
while I still hum it in the dark.

I feel stuck,
my heart in rewind
while yours skipped forward
like we never happened.

You don’t call anymore.
I know.
We’re not one.
Not us.
Not now.

But I still call.
Still text.
Still ache.

And maybe what hurts the most
isn’t losing you—
but how fast
you chose
to forget me.