MY ALMOST

You were never mine— not in the way hands fit perfectly or names are written side by side without hesitation. You were a pause, a lingering “what if” caught between heartbeats I tried to ignore. We were something— not quite nothing, but never enough to be called real. I memorized the way you laughed, like it was a language I was willing to learn even if you never spoke it back to me. There were moments that felt like forever— but forever never came, only quiet endings we never named. You became my almost: almost love, almost us, almost a story I wish had chosen to stay. And maybe that’s the hardest part— not losing you, but knowing we never truly began.