I’m grateful for the times you were there,
For moments of kindness,
for showing you cared.
You helped when I faltered,
gave what you could,
And I held those gestures as anyone would.
I’ve tried to be there,
to listen,
to stay,
Through laughter,
advice,
or the end of the day.
But now I’m left asking,
my voice growing thin— Why do my calls fade, my words fail to begin?
This isn’t the first time I’ve felt the divide,
But lately,
it’s grown too wide to subside.
The imbalance,
a weight too heavy to bear,
A bond that feels fragile,
unraveling midair.
If I’ve been wrong,
I ought to know,
If something has hurt you,
I’d rather it show.
But you stay so silent,
leaving me blind,
To wonder,
to question,
to fall behind.
And so,
for my peace,
I must let it go,
Stop tending a garden that refuses to grow.
I’ll treat this like shadows,
a fleeting embrace,
An acquaintance,
a memory,
a familiar face.
Still,
in my heart,
I wish you the best,
Even as I lay this to rest.