unfinished business
i think i loved you in a way that had no language.
not the kind you say out loud,
not the kind that fits neatly into sentences,
but the kind that sits quietly in the spaces between things,
in pauses,
in unfinished thoughts,
in the way i kept returning to you without ever arriving.
you were never really mine,
and i think some part of me knew that from the beginning.
but there was something about you...
something unfinished,
something almost...
that made it impossible to let go completely.
like a song that never resolves.
like a door that never fully closes.
i kept you in small places.
in the way certain evenings
felt heavier than they should.
in the way silence started to
sound like your name.
in the way i learned to miss
you without ever having you.
and it wasn't something huge.
wasn't something shakespeare would write about.
it didn't burn the world down.
crumble it into a meltdown.
it just stayed.
soft.
persistent.
unshakable.
the kind of love that doesn't ask to be seen,
doesn't need to be returned,
doesn't even need to make sense.
just something that exists quietly,
like a shadow that refuses to leave even when the light changes.
i don't think i'll ever unlearn you.
and maybe that's the closest thing to forever...
i'll ever understand.