Member-only story
You Were Never Mine To Begin With
You held my hand, but your grip was loose,
like you were always ready to let go.
I convinced myself it was enough —
wasn’t love supposed to be enough?
You whispered promises under midnight skies,
but they faded with the sunrise.
I clung to them anyway,
desperate for something that felt real.
You smiled like we had forever,
but forever was never on your mind.
I dreamed of a future you never planned to build.
The truth came quietly,
not with dramatic endings but in silent moments —
when your eyes stopped looking for mine,
when your texts grew colder,
when your laughter no longer sounded like home.
It hit me then:
you were never mine to begin with,
and I was too hopeful to see it.
I gave you everything,
but love can’t thrive in one heart alone.
I begged for crumbs of affection
when I should have been feasting on my own self-worth.
But here’s the thing —
I’m learning to let go,
learning to rewrite my story without you in it.
The saddest truth is also the most liberating:
you were never mine to begin with,
and that’s okay — because now, I am finally mine.
