I remember your hands, the way they fit like a map on my skin, how I memorized every line, every scar, every curve.
I remember the nights we stayed up talking, the fights that burned too hot, the laughter that made the world pause.
I remember the ache when we parted, how it left a hollow I tried to fill with anything, with nothing, with myself.
And now she is here, her eyes soft like sunlight through leaves, her smile carrying a warmth I didn’t know I could feel again.
I want to reach for her, to step fully into something new, to believe that maybe I can be light without guilt.
But you are still here, your ghost pressed against my chest, whispering in the spaces between breaths, in the quiet of my thoughts.
I taste your name on my lips, feel the pull of old love that wasn’t clean, that wasn’t simple, that left me raw and wanting more.
I want to run to her, but I am stuck in a storm I built with you, a storm that isn’t finished, that won’t be finished, that might never be finished.
I think about the future, about holding her hand, about seeing her laugh across a crowded room,
but then I remember your voice, soft and sharp, calling me back to memories I swore I’d left behind.
I want to be honest, to open fully, to trust again, but part of me is still curled up in the shadow of us.
I want to love her without the ache, without the comparison, without the haunting echoes of what we had.
And yet, I feel it—the pull of the familiar, the rush of the new,
a tide that drags me under and lifts me up all at once.
I want both, I want none, I want to disappear into the middle and just feel everything without choosing.
I feel guilty for the excitement she brings, for the flutter in my chest when she texts,
for the possibility of joy that feels like betrayal to the love I carry still.
I imagine her hand brushing mine, the soft warmth of her fingers,
and then I imagine you, our bodies close, the fire between us unextinguished, untamable.
I am torn, stretched, split between then and now, between history and hope.
Every memory of you is a thread, every smile from her a spark,
and I am weaving them together unwillingly, clumsily, painfully.
I wonder if this is how it always is—if love never truly lets go, if new love is always haunted, if hearts are never clean.
I ache for what we had, I ache for what I might have with her,
and I ache for myself, for wanting both, for not being able to just be satisfied, for feeling everything at once.
I feel the weight of years, the sweetness of now, the uncertainty of tomorrow.
I do not know which way to turn, which heart to trust, which desire to follow.
I remember your laugh, your anger, your softness, your sharp edges.
I remember the way I felt alive and broken all at once with you.
I remember thinking nothing could ever be as intense, as real, as terrifying.
And now she is here, gentle and steady, and I want to trust her,
but my chest is full of ghosts, full of fire, full of old songs I can’t stop singing.
I wonder if she will wait while I untangle myself, if I will ever untangle myself,
if I am allowed to want both, if wanting both is wrong, if love is supposed to hurt this much.
I am tired, I am awake, I am craving, I am scared.
I want to step fully into the new, but I am afraid of leaving the old unfinished,
afraid of the silence that will come when I choose, afraid of hurting, afraid of missing, afraid of losing.
I feel my heart in pieces, pieces that belong to her, pieces that belong to you, pieces that belong only to me.
I breathe in the chaos, I exhale the ache, I feel the pulse of everything beating at once.
I am not lost, I am not found, I am suspended, floating between fire and light, between shadow and warmth.
I want to fall, I want to soar, I want to be brave, I want to run, I want to hold, I want to let go.
I am alive in the ache, alive in the pull, alive in the confusion, alive in the storm, alive.
And I know, somehow, that the storm will not end today, that the ache will not end today, that the pull will not end today.
But I am here, feeling, loving, breaking, hoping, existing in the tangle of now.
I am torn, I am messy, I am human, I am heart, I am fire, I am light, I am shadow.