i didn't answer her calls tonight.
not the first.
not the fourth.
not even the eighth.
she kept calling.
and i kept staring at the wall
like it owed me closure.
because tonight
i saw you.
and it fucked me up in ways
i thought i'd already survived.
how could i still feel like this?
for someone i never kissed?
you weren't even mine.
not once.
not ever.
but you—
you tortured me
with every version of love
that i never deserved.
so i opened spotify.
typed your name
like it was a confession.
Hazel.
clicked your profile.
found the song
i once told you reminded me of the rain.
you remembered—
you even named it after a joke we made.
and then i played it.
your voice filled my room
like smoke.
slow.
soft.
deadly.
i held my breath.
like maybe
i could inhale the past
and finally forget you.
but you were still there.
in the chords.
in the lyrics.
in every note
that sounded more like i miss you
than anything i've ever said out loud.
and as your voice cracked in the chorus,
i cracked too.
you never loved me.
not in the way i needed.
and maybe you did.
but never loud enough
to stop me
from choosing someone else.
so tonight,
i didn't call her back.
i just let your song
tear me apart
one verse at a time.