I Don’t Know That Anyone Has Ever

Lonely

I don’t think I’ve ever broken anyone’s heart the way mine’s been shattered, splintered into quiet, aching pieces that echo long after the door slams. I don’t know that anyone has ever longed for me the way I’ve stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, longing for a hand I’ll never hold again.

I don’t know that anyone has ever whispered my name into the night like it was a prayer or felt the weight of my absence like a storm rolling in heavy and dark. I don’t know that anyone has ever driven down empty roads with nothing but my memory riding shotgun, every song on the radio sounding like my name.

I don’t know that anyone has ever looked at me like I was the first sip of coffee on a cold morning, or the last glow of sunlight on a long summer day, something worth holding onto, even if only for a moment.

I don’t know that anyone has ever waited on me the way I’ve waited, standing still in the rush of time, hoping for the sound of footsteps that never come.

I don’t know that anyone has ever written my name into the margins of their life, circling it like a sacred thing, something to hold onto when the world feels too big and too empty.

And maybe that’s my punishment - to feel it all so deeply, to carry the weight of what could’ve been, while knowing that I might only ever be a passing thought, a shadow of something forgotten.

But still, I’ll sit here, heart in my hands, wondering if maybe someday, someone will.

Has Anyone Ever Loved Me