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You said it like it meant the world to you, Like every word was something pure and true, A quiet promise wrapped in softened breath— The kind that lingers long beyond its death. “I miss you,” whispered like a fragile prayer, “I need you,” spoken as though I were rare, “I love you,” falling gently, warm and deep— The kind of words a soul is meant to keep. And then—so simply, like it wasn’t wild— With something almost innocent… you smiled: “Let me just get it out of the way— I want to marry you.” God… how I stayed. I built a life inside those fragile lines, Believed your future had been tied to mine, Held every syllable like it was real— Because you spoke it like I was the deal. But truth is cruel in ways you never see Until it strips away what used to be, And now your voice—once everything I knew— Belongs to someone else… not me, not you. Were they just words to help you feel less alone? A bridge you crossed, then burned when you had grown? Was I just something safe to pass you through— A place to rest… until you found someone new? I play it back—each promise, every line, Trying to find the moment it declined, But all I hear is how you made it sound… Like love was something we had truly found.