The Life I Didn’t Choose

The Life I Didn’t Choose

I thought a ring would quiet the noise in my chest,

That standing beside you would feel like coming home,

I pictured slow mornings wrapped in shared warmth,

Not the cold echo of you leaving again.

You speak of nights lit by loud laughter and drinks,

Of flights booked alone without a backward glance,

Your world spins far from the one I hold close,

A place where I am never quite invited.

I wanted small socks lined neatly by the fire,

Soft slippers waiting by the edge of the bed,

Cocoa cooling gently between steady hands,

And quiet laughter stitched into our nights.

Instead I count the hours you do not return,

The empty side of a bed grown too wide,

Your voice always distant, already elsewhere,

Like I was something you once meant to try.

There is no anger left that feels worth holding,

Only a sadness that settles too deep,

Two lives walking side by side without meeting,

Two futures that never learned how to speak.

If I could unwrite the promise we made,

I would choose silence over this kind of alone,

A life with less noise and more truth in its bones,

A life where I did not have to beg to be known.

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