You said you didn’t have the space to feel for me.
I said I knew. I said I understood.
What I didn’t say was this: I feel everything.

I always have. And with you, being wanted felt like it could be enough. Your hands on my body became a stand-in for what my heart was starving for. The way you looked at me made desire feel louder than love, as if being seen and craved could keep me alive—illusion passing for intimacy.

But here I am, wanting you again and again, hollowed out by the certainty that you will walk away and forget my name.

You made room in my heart for someone who was never really there—a ghost that leaves footprints just long enough to prove it existed, then thins into fog.

I can’t unknow you. I can’t forget the way my body remembered you long after you were gone, long after I became just a moment to you instead of someone.
And that’s the cruelest part: you left—but you stayed in me

JMS