Posted by: Michelle Piquero
Date Published: February 14, 2025
Time Published: 5:00 PM
Category: Prose
Theme: The haunting memory of a person from the past.
How do you grieve for a love that only lived in your heart? How do you mourn something that was never even real?
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯.
How odd is it to be haunted by someone that is still alive? It is a question if you loved me, but in my heart, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.
Or maybe you weren't. You were never mine to hold—yet letting you go feels like losing a piece of myself I was never meant to have. As if I'm waking up from a dream that seemed too real—too precious, even though it was never really mine to keep.
You weren't ready to love, and I wasn't ready to be hurt.
Thus, not all scars are meant to be healed. They are intended to jog one's memory. A memory of what was once lost. A reminder of what once was.
But at least I got to experience what it's like to be loved by you and to have a peek at what could have been.
How devastating it is to bump into you one day as a stranger who shared a wonderful piece of memories together?
Especially to the one who holds a very special place in my heart, the one who allowed me to be vulnerable for a moment and showed no judgment, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦.
How haunting is it to feel the ghost of your touch, your lips that I once kissed, and a love that I once owned?
Maybe I was just too vulnerable at that time that I mistook your love for something that I thought would last.
What a privilege it was to live in a world with you in it.
I'm afraid I'll spend my whole life wondering what it would be like with you around, 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥.
During the cold nights when your presence lingers, questions haunt me, and I'll always wonder—what could have happened if I had just been better?
The coffee's long gone cold, but I'm still here, waiting for the warmth to return.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦.
Why have we come to this point? I swear we were so in love—so hopeful.
Maybe this is the end of it all.
You are everywhere and nowhere all at once—fighting the ghosts I couldn't touch, grasping the air with a love that was never quite fair.
How funny is it that your absence isn't quiet—it screams through every moment, haunting me with love that was never truly mine to begin with.
Thus, not all ghosts are from the past—some are the ones that we once loved, whispering the memories we can't seem to erase, to be haunted, not by regret, but to be reminded of something that once felt too real.
A reminder of what once yours, but 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱.
No comments:
Post a Comment