Words spilling.
Heart bleeding.
Truth, unfiltered.
We were written beneath the same sky, under the same endless stretch of fate, yet somehow… never at the same moment.
You were sunrise, soft, certain, full of beginnings.
And I…
I was the fading night, lingering in shadows, holding on to what was already leaving.
And no matter how we reached, no matter how close our fingers came, how deeply our hearts tried to understand,
we were always just… missing.
A second too early.
A moment too late.
A love that existed, but never aligned.
Maybe in another life, we would have met differently.
Not in passing.
Not in confusion.
Not in a time where one of us was learning how to let go while the other was only beginning to hold on.
Maybe there…
we would have been right.
Not too soon.
Not too late.
Just…
right.
But here
in this life,
in this version of us
we are simply two souls who crossed paths only to learn something we never wanted to know:
How to love…
what we cannot keep.
And maybe that is the cruelest kind of love
not the one that breaks loudly,
but the one that exists so deeply,
yet was never meant to stay.