soulmate

I tried my hardest to be perfect, softening edges, biting my tongue, rearranging myself so I would fit the shape of your love. I learned how to apologize even when I didn’t know the crime, how to speak carefully, and still somehow say the wrong things. Every effort felt invisible, every flaw magnified. I gave you my patience, my silence, my hope— and watched them fall through your hands. You felt like home, but homes don’t lock you out when you’re standing in the rain. Maybe you were my soulmate, just not the kind that stays. Not the kind that chooses me when loving gets difficult. I see it now— some souls meet only to teach us how much we are willing to bend, and when bending becomes breaking. So if I am left in the end, let it be with myself intact. Because loving you taught me this: a love that costs me my worth was never meant to be mine