i’m not ready.

 

i wrote all of that,

hoping the words will make it true,

that if I say it enough,

it will settle into my bones.

it will feel like something i believe.

 

but the truth is-

i’m not ready.

not ready to let go.

not ready to move on.

i think it goes something like this-

i replay my footsteps 

on each stepping stone,

trying to find the one

where i went wrong

writing letters,

addressed to the fire

i wish you knew how sorry i am

i wish you could see my regret

i wish we could have seen through our pain

to see each other

i made promises to you 

that i never wanted to break

why wouldn’t you let me keep them?

why did you make me break them?

all i want is you in my arms

all i want is a time machine 

to take back the past few months

to take back the unraveling 

to take back everything i did that might have led to this

all i want is you

i never stopped.

 

i loved you. i love you.

fully, wildly, without hesitation.

i loved you at depths i didn’t know existed.

i was never looking for a way out,

never counting the exits,

never waiting for the moment to run.

but you held on like love was slipping,

like it had already begun to unravel,

like if you let go even for a second,

i would disappear.

you trusted the fear more than you trusted me.

trusted the echoes of every goodbye before me,

trusted the ache that told you

love must be gripped with both hands,

or else it would vanish.

but you never had to hold so tight.

i never wanted to leave.

i was always choosing you.

but you were so afraid of losing me

that you never believed i was staying.

maybe you wanted to believe me.

maybe you wanted to loosen your grip.

you did it before.

i thought you could do it again.

all i wanted was freedom,

with you by my side,

our hands intertwined-

not out of fear,

but out of choice.

i wanted you to choose me.

i desperately wanted you to choose me.

but love is not a choice i can make for you,

i have to learn how to let myself be chosen

and i know that’s not a choice you can make right now.

and i feel my own hands tightening,

clinging to the memories of you the way you once clung to me,

desperate to hold on,

afraid of what it means to let go,

to let you go.

but love is not meant to be held like this.

if it is real, if it is ours,

it will find its way back.

so i have to let go.

not because i want to,

but because i must.

when you’re angry,

when you’re hurting,

when it feels like i stopped loving you,

hear me when i say:

i never stopped.

i only started choosing myself, too.

i always loved you.

you didn’t need more of my love-

you needed more of your own.

and i hope, more than anything,

that you find it.

that you learn to love yourself,

you learn to love those bright eyes,

the tender, wounded parts inside of you,

the way i always did.

and if one day, 

that love leads you back to me,

i will open the door.

i chose you

i tried to give you warmth,  

wrap you in reassurance,  

speak love in a language

to soothe fears that were never mine to calm

you loved the way i filled the spaces you didn’t want empty,  

the way my warmth made the cold easier to bear.  

you loved the light,  

but you never asked what it cost me to keep burning.  

you reached for me endlessly,  

pulled at my love like it was something to hold you steady,  

never noticing how much it was taking  

for me to keep standing.  

you were drowning in your own pain,  

so desperate to stay afloat  

that you never noticed how much of myself  

i let sink so you could breathe.  

you couldn’t see past your own ache,

couldn’t see how much i was holding,

how much of myself i poured into the empty spaces

you were too afraid to face alone

and no matter how much i gave,  

it was never enough.  

i was never enough.

i was never going to be enough- 

you needed me to give you something 

that only you could give yourself.

i thought so much about your happiness,

and in your pain, that’s all you could think about too.

i didn’t need to occupy your every thought,

to be the object of your affection.

that wasn’t a sign that you loved me more

that you cared more

that you were more in it

it was a sign that you didn’t love yourself enough

to even receive what was being so freely given.

you thought that all of your words- 

your need for me-

was you returning that love back to me

but it was just another way for you to take 

love doesn’t demand to be everything-

the air you breathe,

the ground you stand on,

love wants you to stand on your own- it lets you stand on your own

it wants to be beside you, not above, not beneath, 

not the thing holding you together

not reassurance, wrapped in exhaustion

love does not need to be chased,

to be watched with a careful eye,

love does not make a cage of its arms.

it doesn’t need to consume or claim or own

love is a choice made freely, again and again 

love doesn’t say, you are mine

love says, you are free 

and still, i hope you choose to stay

if given the choice, i would have always chosen to stay.