I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because the ache inside me won’t stop until I let it out. Once, I loved a man so deeply it terrified me. And when fear took over, I betrayed him. I thought I’d destroyed him. So I begged the night to give him the happiness I’d stolen. I said I’d give up my own soul if it meant he’d find a love that would last. And for a while, it worked.
He did. He found someone else — someone who loved him like he deserved, who didn’t flinch at the soft parts of him, who stayed. But now they’re both gone, and all I can feel is that my gift was wasted. The love I thought I sacrificed for became an ending instead of a beginning, and now there’s nothing left to show for what I gave away but silence and regret.
I’m empty, wandering through grief that isn’t even mine alone, searching for a reason to keep breathing. Some days, I think there isn’t one. But other days… other days, a flicker of something stirs in my chest, and for just a moment, the ache becomes something else — not hope, not yet, but maybe its shadow.
>Soulkyn