i didn't leave her for you.
i left because i was already gone.
long before you,
long before the guilt,
i'd been watching us fade—
the laughter, the ease,
the way her hand used to find mine
without thinking.
somewhere between the silence
and the forced smiles,
we became strangers
trying to remember
how to love each other
the way we used to.
she asked me that night,
"why now?"
and i told her the only truth
i could bear to say—
"because we stopped fitting."
she cried,
i didn't.
i think that's when i knew
it was really over.
i didn't tell her about you,
because it wasn't about you.
it was about me
finally wanting to love someone
without lying first.
and maybe this time,
i'll do it right.