To The person I almost built a life with
Maybe We Were Right in the Wrong Season
I keep wondering whether we failed each other or simply met before either of us knew how to stay.
You were not cruel. I was not careless. We were tired, proud, and frightened of needing anyone too much. We kept turning small misunderstandings into evidence that the other person would eventually leave.
There are days when I imagine meeting you now. I wonder whether we would speak more gently. I wonder whether I would tell you what I needed instead of hoping you could read the silence. I wonder whether you would let me help instead of pretending nothing hurt.
Maybe that version of us would have worked. Maybe not. I cannot keep building a home inside a question.
I hope life has softened the places in you that were always braced for disappointment. I hope someone recognizes your quiet ways of loving. And I hope you remember that, for a while, I saw you clearly.
We were real. We mattered. We also ended.
That has to be enough.
You were not cruel. I was not careless. We were tired, proud, and frightened of needing anyone too much. We kept turning small misunderstandings into evidence that the other person would eventually leave.
There are days when I imagine meeting you now. I wonder whether we would speak more gently. I wonder whether I would tell you what I needed instead of hoping you could read the silence. I wonder whether you would let me help instead of pretending nothing hurt.
Maybe that version of us would have worked. Maybe not. I cannot keep building a home inside a question.
I hope life has softened the places in you that were always braced for disappointment. I hope someone recognizes your quiet ways of loving. And I hope you remember that, for a while, I saw you clearly.
We were real. We mattered. We also ended.
That has to be enough.
