She never knew

She never knew

She never knew

how many times I almost said it.

How the words

sat behind my teeth,

heavy,

waiting for courage

that never came.

She never knew

that my favorite part of the day

was the few seconds

before she noticed me

when I could look at her

without pretending I wasn’t.

To her,

I was steady.

Normal.

Safe.

She never knew

that I memorized the way she existed.

The rhythm of her laugh.

The way her eyes searched rooms

for someone who was never me.

And maybe that’s the quiet tragedy

she was never cruel.

Never distant on purpose.

She simply did not feel

what I felt.

While I was building futures

out of almosts,

she was just living.

She never knew

that I stayed up rewriting conversations,

adding confessions

that never left my chest.

Never knew

that loving her

taught me how to be gentle

with something

that would never be mine.

I do not blame her.

How do you fault the moon

for not noticing

every star that looks up?

She never knew.

And she does not need to.

Some loves

are not meant to be declared.

Only carried.

Quietly.

With dignity.

And so I let it remain

what it has always been

A beautiful feeling

that existed

only on one side

of the sky.