You Weren’t Even Mine


I check my phone, there aren’t any messages. And when there is, my heart wilts a little each time I read the names that don’t belong to you. It takes everything I have not to text you, for I know there will be no reply. And I don’t want to bother you, to disrupt your life in any way. I just miss talking to you.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad. I wasn’t even allowed to call you mine yet. You weren’t my boyfriend but the expectations were there. You made me trust that it would happen, that I wouldn’t have to feel alone anymore. That you were going to be here, at least for a while. You listened to me. Wanted to know everything about me, even the darkest parts of my soul. I told you things that I have never told another person before, and I didn’t even realize how easy it was to do until you were gone. I’ve had walls up for quite some time but they fell just as fast as I was starting to fall for you. I let you in and you ended up shutting me out.

I think of how you held my hand, like you would never want to release it back to me. And I felt special because you had told me once before of how you didn’t like holding hands. So maybe it was just and action reserved for the cherished. I’m sure you thought nothing of this, but I did. We joked about how well our hands fit each other. But to me it was more than just our hands that seemed together perfectly.

I think of you laying next to me, fighting to keep your mesmerizing eyes on mine. The way you turned me towards you and held me close. The way you kissed my hands and brushed your lips against my fingertips. You told me that you hadn’t felt this way in years. That I could clear your head out completely when usually that in itself is an impossible feat. But to me you did the opposite. Being with you only cranked up my endless train of thoughts. And somehow nothing about that has changed since you left.

It’s not because you don’t feel for me. That’s clear to me, if anything. I have my suspicions of why you walked away, why you chose to hurt me. And it almost aches more this way. Knowing that we could be together right now but something stopped you. Something about “us” scared you. Maybe you thought you were no good for me, that I couldn’t or shouldn’t deal with your problems. Maybe it was something superficial that I would never have left you for. Maybe you just are afraid of letting anyone love you or get too close.

I wasn’t looking for a forever; I don’t need that kind of a commitment. But you made unspoken promises. You made future plans and comments about me being yours. You’ve torn up my soul with your ups and downs and I don’t know what to think anymore. I replay everything leading up to the day that you wanted out and I still can’t make sense of it. That’s the torture of having such a superb memory; I can’t forget even the tiniest of details no matter how hard I try. I’ve never been good at erasing people and I’ve never understood how it’s so easy for others to erase me. I try to think of the negative things in hopes it will spark something in me to make me not want you anymore. To not miss you like this. But nothing has worked. It’s like my heart doesn’t know that you left and my head refuses to relay the message.

And I only write this because maybe if I let it out then it will escape my head forever. Maybe these haunting thoughts will disappear along with some of the pain. As you put it, you have to let go of the memory of me. Something a girl like me can never do of yours. I feel too much and when someone like you comes around, I invest too much. I put too much of my heart into this too soon. So maybe it’s my own fault. My expectations of what was happening between us were apparently out of reach. I thought we were on the same page, and you assured me many times that we were. But I shouldn’t feel this hollow, because you weren’t even mine.

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