The Hug That Never Happened
They sat in silence, inches apart,
Two aching chests, one broken heart.
A single word could bridge the gap,
But pride stood tall, a cruel mishap.
The morning light through curtains poured,
Like grace that neither one implored.
A touch, a glance, a soft “I’m sorry”—
Could’ve rewritten all the story.
She brushed her teeth, stared at the stream,
He watched the wall, lost in a dream.
Each waiting for the other’s cue,
To do what both just meant to do.
A hug—just that. No grand parade.
No speeches long, no debts repaid.
Just arms around and tempers softened,
The kind of peace they’d both forgotten.
But silence grew where love had been,
A slow erosion, paper-thin.
And lawyers came with suits and sighs,
To drain their banks and split the ties.
No scandal flared, no great affair,
Just missed connections, vacant stares.
The final line, a quiet shrug—
All for the lack of just one hug.
Now a year has passed, and so has he—
The boy who once sat on their knee.
He builds his walls with heavy care,
Afraid of love that won’t be there.
He flinches when voices start to rise,
He searches truth behind goodbyes.
He wonders why the warmest homes
Can turn to halls where no one roams.
His laughter, once so quick to bloom,
Now echoes softer in his room.
He says he’s fine, but in his eyes—
You see the cost of grown-up lies.
And they—the two who chose to part,
Now carry shards inside their heart.
Two separate lives that once were whole,
Now ghosted by a half-lived soul.
They fake their smiles, they learn to cope,
They grip at joy, they reach for hope.
But every quiet night reveals
A wound that time just never heals.
They’ll build new paths, they’ll find their way,
But something pure got lost that day.
For all the things they rose above—
They’ll never quite outrun that love.
Two people who will always ache,
For what they lost, and didn’t take.
And all because, when push had come,
They chose the cold and not the hug.
© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved
