We were always hit and miss, but I don’t know how the latter became dominant, or how our arguments flipped from “I love you more” to “I care less.”
All I know is I’ve tried so hard to be something you’d miss.
Hopelessly hoping my absence would have you aching for my presence in the same way I’ve always longed for the friction and perfect fit of your lips.
Nobody told me desire could be so dangerous.
I was never warned that passion could swallow you whole or set you off like a match until only ash is left.
You’ve scorched and scattered me, like soot beneath your feet, embers that shall never again be seen.
You moved away with casual ease, like I didn’t mean anything.
I wish I could leave, say the same — that I won’t miss you at all.
You may have said it was altruism that drew you to me, but we both know you could call that bluff.
I am selfish enough to hold you forever.