I lost you. But I never had you anyway.

Photo by Tomas Williams from Pexels

I lost you.
And we never had each other.

Not our backs.
Not the same destination.
Not the same language.
Not even the fear of being alone.

I wrote words about you
and I don’t regret.
They sound foreign to me now.

We didn’t last one season.
And I loved our lies.

A misunderstanding
of every small offer.
Unwanted kindness
uncomfortable compromises.

I wanted more
but you didn’t see the loneliness.
And my sheets staid empty.
And my head became heavy.
And my heart hurt me every night.

Fixing parts of me I actually loved,
being blind to the parts of me I hated so much.
(Somewhere in between)
I know now,
that I never knew you.
And I lost you.
Although we never owned each other.

Not our backs.
Not our hearts.