You were my world once.
My breath, my rhythm, my chaos wrapped in beauty.
You captivated me completely.
A gaze like green fire,
calm on the surface,
but capable of freezing everything inside me.
You didn't need spells.
Your silence alone held me hostage.
I was the wildflower
blooming recklessly beside your thorns,
naive enough to believe I could survive the closeness.
And oh, how I tried.
Even when you made my soul bleed.
Even when your love felt like a game
with rules only you understood.
I mistook pain for passion.
And silence for mystery.
But I loved you anyway.
Fully.
Dangerously.
You were my first heartbreak,
and strangely, still my muse.
You asked for pieces of me
I wasn't ready to give.
Or maybe I gave too much
and you didn't know what to do with it.
I asked myself for years,
Did you ever really love me?
But now I understand
you loved me in the only way you knew how.
And I loved you in a way that made me lose myself.
You didn't kill me.
You awakened me.
Even in your leaving,
you left behind the gift of my voice.
The woman who writes this now
owes part of her strength
to the girl who broke beside you
and still stood back up.
Forgiveness is mine.
But forgetting? That was never the point.