I used to curse every man
who ever held your hand.
I mocked them,
hated them,
believed they'd never understand you
the way I did.
But this time,
I stayed silent.
Because he—
he treats you right.
He doesn't just listen,
he remembers.
He doesn't just promise,
he shows up.
He doesn't just want you,
he chooses you—
every single day.
You laughed when you told me
he loved your fettuccini carbonara.
You glowed when you said
he stayed up late helping with your thesis.
You smiled when you whispered
he plays guitar too,
and I swore I heard
my own chords
in his hands.
And in that moment,
I saw it—
he is me,
but grown.
Me,
without the fear,
without the cruelty,
without the lies.
Hazel,
you chose a man.
And I—
I was only ever a boy