Who I am.

Ours was carved in restless shadows… In the places hearts don’t sleep. We did not bloom in gentle timing, Nor in hands that knew their way; We were thunder without warning… We were night that chased the day. For I— Did not love you soft or small, Did not guard my heart at all; I fell like something meant to break… A risk I did not try to take. And oh— How cruel the truth of “not meant to be,” How sharp the edge of memory; When every moment still remains… A ghost that walks inside my veins. You think— That endings mean it wasn’t real, That broken things were never steel; But some loves burn, then fall apart… And leave their echo in the heart. I see— The way you linger in my mind, A fleeting trace I cannot bind; Not mine to keep, not yours to stay… Yet something I can’t throw away. And still— I do not curse the path we crossed, Nor count our time as something lost; For even endings serve their role… Some loves don’t last— They shape the soul. So go— And walk the road you’re meant to find, While I make peace with what’s behind; But know this truth, however far… You are not gone— You are… What taught me Who I am.