How???

What would it have meant

to choose presence over pixels—

to say goodbye face-to-face

instead of sending me

a flicker of words that ended everything?

How did you ever call this friendship,

if it could be cut away

by the push of a button?

When you stumbled across poems

that weren’t meant for you to find, because I never shared them with you—-

what if you had paused?And…

What if you had asked,

“What does this mean about love,

about memory,

about the way someone (me) keeps another alive (you) in any form, but for me as poetry…”

Do you ever wonder

what we’d be now

if you hadn’t called finding my words enough to disappear? And forever. 

What if you’d chosen grace

instead of retreat?
Was I really that easy to throw away? Or were you just looking for a reason to lose this friendship? 
It feels like the latter. 

What kind of bond might have grown—

if instead of closing the door you had said,

“I see you, and though it unsettles me,

I still want to know you. I still honor you. I choose to stay.”
Why didn’t you stay? Why did you leave, and on purpose? Was I really that shitty of a friend? No. No I was fucking good. And you know it. I still am. 

Would laughter still circle our conversations?

Would our history still feel intact?

Would the word friend

still fit?

And in quiet moments,

do you ever think about

the story that could have been—CAN BE—

not erased,

not broken by silence,

but carried forwardWith the empathy you claim to love in people, 

with mercy,

with trust,

with a little more courage

than you chose?
I chose all of them. I never wanted to lose you. You told me the same. But I’m the one who chose all of the above. I still do. But when will you? 
No one is making you keep doing this. And no one wants you to come back more than me. 
But… Was I really that easy to throw away? Or were you just looking for a reason to lose this friendship? Is this REALLY what you wanted and want and will always want? 
Because no one misses you more than me.