I Stay

I looked for you..
in the curve of someone else’s smile,
in the way their fingers fidget when they talk,
in the half-hearted texts that say “good morning.”

But it’s never you.
No one says my name the way you did,
like it mattered.
Like I mattered.
No one listens with that kind of silence,
the kind that feels like home.

I tried to copy our routine.
Waking up to a screen lighting up with someone else’s name...
but it never lands the same.
Because you…
you made mornings feel gentle,
like the world wasn’t so heavy.
And nights..
you filled them with warmth,
like loneliness forgot my name.
Now every “goodnight”
feels like an echo
of something that once meant everything.

I wish I had the courage
to call you.
To break the silence I built like a wall
just to keep myself from feeling.
To say the things
I should’ve said when I had the chance.

Like...
I miss you.
God, I miss you.
Not just your voice,
but your presence.
The way you stayed…
even when I gave you reasons to leave.

You remembered everything.
That I hate coffee.
That I don’t eat much.
The way I go quiet when the world feels too loud.
My cats—Peanut and Shadow.
The stories behind my tattoos.
How I see life,
even when I don’t say much.
You held on to my words
like they were pieces of me
you didn’t want to lose.

We never met in person.
Not once.
But every message you sent
felt like a heartbeat I could hold.
You were just a screen away—
but somehow, closer than anyone who’s ever stood in front of me.

You used to say you missed me.
All the time.
You told me to take care,
like you meant it.
You reminded me you were always there,
that you were waiting.
And I…
I didn’t know how to receive that kind of love.

But I want you to know now...
thank you.

Thank you for your patience.
For loving me through the chaos.
For trying.
For staying.
Even when I made it hard.

I couldn’t say it then,
but I carry it now.
I carry you now.

But I can’t reach out.
I want to...
but I can’t.

Because I saw it.
The way you were hurting.
How you tried to hold me with words
when all I gave you were excuses and silence.
How you kept showing up
when I was already halfway gone.

And I?
I let go first.
Not because I didn’t love you,
but because I didn’t know how to stay.
I didn’t think I deserved you.

I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I left when you were still reaching for me.
Sorry for making you carry all that love alone.

Now I’m far.
Far in miles.
Far in the person I’ve become.
Far from the version of me you believed in.

But still...
I look for you.
Not in people anymore,
but in the quiet spaces you used to fill.

A song that echoes with your name.
The silence after a long day.
The moment just before sleep
when your voice used to be the last thing I’d hear.

I stay.

I stay in the memory of us.
In the messages I never deleted.
In the ache I’ve learned to carry.

You may not hear me.
You may never look back.
But from afar,
softly,
still—
I stay.