We Were Never Really Anything

We were never really anything—

not a title,

not a promise,

not a forever.

Just a late-night text

that lingered too long.

A brush of knees under the table

that said more than our mouths ever did.

We didn’t fall in love.

But we could have.

And some days,

that feels heavier

than if we had.

You were a maybe

that felt like a memory.

A smile I couldn’t keep

but never wanted to forget.

I see you now,

in photos with someone else.

Looking happy.

Or at least,

complete.

And I wonder—

was I just the preview?

The rehearsal for a role

you now play perfectly

with someone who arrived

after I left the stage.

Still,

if I had to do it again—

the late-night calls,

the near-kisses,

the ache of restraint—

I would.

Because even nothing,

with you,

felt like something.