I can't keep catching you

I loved you in quiet ways

in all the spaces where no one looked—

in the soft light of morning coffee

in the way i learned your silence

like a second language.

I held you like a secret

like something the world could ruin

if they ever looked too closely.

but even secrets need sunlight

and you

kept closing the blinds.

you were the storm I wanted to shelter,

the fire I cupped with both hands.

I wanted you safe

even if it burned me.

especially if it burned me.

and I kept trying—

god, I kept trying.

when you pushed,

I stayed.

when you pulled away,

I reached further.

when you broke,

I bled.

but lately,

you don't look back anymore.

not even once.

and I think I’m finally learning

what it feels like

to lose someone

who’s still right here.

you say nothing’s wrong

but everything’s missing.

my happiness.

your warmth.

the version of us

who used to laugh

and mean it.

and now—

I don’t know how to stop loving you,

but I also don’t know

how to keep holding on

to something

that won’t reach back.

it hurts to say it

but maybe

I’m done trying

to save someone

who won’t even

let me in.

and it shatters me—

because I would’ve loved you

through every storm,

but I can’t keep catching you

if I’m the one

who keeps falling.