We were never lovers.
There were no midnight confessions, no trembling hands folded into each other’s palms, no declarations to the stars.
And yet, what passed between us could not be confined to friendship, nor described by the dry language of fate.
It was something ancient. Something hovering just beyond articulation—like a word trapped forever on the tip of the universe’s tongue.
To know her was to feel a quiet ache beneath the bones—an ache that resembled longing, yet never dared to bloom into it.
She and I danced on the edge of something immense.
And we never jumped.
But oh, how the world shifted in that pause.
There are some silences so loud they shape the course of things. Ours was such a silence.
A soft severing. A wound dressed in grace.
At a moment—fragile, fleeting—she wished for it.
For loss.
Not in cruelty. Not in arrogance. But in weariness.
Perhaps the weight of “what might be” became heavier than the comfort of “what is.”
Perhaps she feared the mirror I held too steadily for her to shatter.
And so, she stepped away. Not with anger. Not with goodbye.
Just… absence.
A quiet undoing of a bond that never found a name.
I bore the aftermath not like a heartbreak, but like an unspent storm.
I did not grieve the end of a love story—we never had one.
I grieved the death of a possibility.
Of a sacred union that would have asked for no performance, only presence.
She may have lost someone who would have worshipped the soil beneath her self-doubt, who would have read her silences like scripture.
But what I lost—what we lost—was something far more irreplaceable.
The world lost a softness it so desperately needed.
A tenderness that could have unfolded into poems and prayers,
Into a quiet revolution of warmth.
Our separation was not merely a personal sorrow.
It was a cosmic misstep.
A fracture in the universe’s deeper narrative.
For what we might have become—together—was not just love.
It was light.
And now, that light lies unlit—somewhere between what was felt and what was never said.
And that, I believe, is not just my loss.
It is the world’s.