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. 

Anyone who loses me, WANTED to get rid of me.

If you WANTED me to stay, you would have TRIED TO FUCKING REPAIR this. 

You would have HAD A CONVERSATION.

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 forward

With 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. 

What would it take?

Would it take me to be quiet as stone,

or loud as a storm breaking on the coast?

Would you want me to delete every poem,

or let them bloom like weeds in the cracks?

Should I write your name in invisible ink,

or carve it deep into the bark of a tree?

Do I have to call you out for how you treated me in anger,

or remember all of your kindness?

Would you rather I erase you like you did me, or keep every word I put in ink? 

Should I send letters wishing you’d change your mind still,

or print off and then burn every word I ever wrote to you? 

Should I make you the villain,

or make myself the villain,

or finally stop writing villains at all?What if we are BOTH to blame? 

Would you want me to walk backward into forgetting,

or forward into forgiveness? I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive you for how low you pushed me by leaving this friendship. 

Should I say I don’t care,

or admit that I always did?

Do you want me to be angry enough to hate you,

or soft enough to still love you?

Would you like me to hold your absence like a trophy,

or to mourn it like the death it is?

Should I act like I’m fine,

or show you that I’m not?You know I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay with what you did until you’re back. How could I? 

Do I need to promise you freedom,

or tell you you already have it?

Would you want me to tell you your secrets are safe,

or tell you no one reads these words (they don’t)?

Should I stop praying for you,

or pray louder?I barely pray but when I do it’s one sentence to Glacier: bring ____ back. 

Do I leave your memory untouched,

or touch it until it bleeds?

Would you like me to never mention you again,

or to say your name until it loses shape?

Should I hate myself for wanting this,

or forgive myself for wanting this?

Do you want me to hold the door open forever,

or finally close it and walk away?You chose that. I never will. I swore it. And mean it. Loyalty is what I am. It’s what your character lacks. 

Would you like me to stop writing you into my stories,

or write you into every chapter?

Should I tell the world you saved me,

or tell the world you broke me?

Do you want me to be a lighthouse,

or a dark coast with no signal at all?

Should I stand still and wait,

or give up on you, us?

Do I need to promise never to hurt you,

Again, even though it was never EVER on purpose, or admit that everyone hurts,

and still choose you anyway?

Do I need to stop searching for your face in a crowd,

or give up looking for you everywhere?

Would you like me to never ask again,

or ask every day until you answer?

Would you want me to stop hoping,

or hope until it breaks me?

Do you want me to be the ghost in your life,

or the friend you invite back?

Should I walk into the dark alone,

or wait for you in the light?

Do I need to undo time,

or live inside it as it is?

Do I need to say nothing,

or say everything?

Do I need to be nothing,

or be everything?

Do I need to stop asking,

or keep asking until you hear me?

Because  _______ —You never listened. Go back and read your texts to me when you left and when you messaged me last week when my roommate almost died of an overdose. I was scared as fuck. Instead? You blocked me on IG. So I blocked you back. For now. You never fucking listened. You said you never meant to hurt me. But you knew it would. So how can you say you never meant to knowing that? And you did it anyway. Who does this to a friend? Who? Not a kind person. Sorry not sorry. Why do I say that?THIS: You never heard me out. You never LISTENED to any of my side. You’ll never hear me out. But karma will take care of you for all of us who have been hurt by you. Just wait. Someday you’ll fall madly in love or have a best friend or a support and they’ll fuck you over one day after you send a super kind text.And your world will end for that moment. And moments of grief for years to follow. I don’t wish that on you. I’m just reminding you of how the universe plays. It has no obligation to us. 
But I’ll always pray you’ll change. That this isn’t who you are. That I won’t look for you in airports and bars and cities not ours. That I won’t wave and miss you with this ache that belongs to someone I told all my secrets and highs and lows to. How much money do you want? I wouldn’t give you a penny.But if there is a decent bone left in you, then give me my shit back and give me at least the dignity you keep leaving me on empty with. Because the fuck. 

what the fuck will it take to have you back in my life?