The Man You Never Were

missing the version of him he never truly was and feeling lost in how to love whats left

I ache for the man you used to pretend to be,
the one built from soft words
and borrowed tenderness,
the one who held me like he meant it
even if the meaning was paper-thin.

I miss the dream of you—
that gentle ghost I fell toward
without knowing he was smoke,
slipping through my fingers
the closer I reached.

Now I look at you
and all I see are the pieces you hid,
the sharp edges, the shadows,
the truth you saved for later—
the truth that is heavier than I can hold.

I search your face for traces
of the love you once acted out,
but none of it lives there.
Just the man you really are,
and the silence between us
growing wider every day.

And I don’t know how to love you now—
not like this,
not when the only version of you
my heart ever touched
was the one you never truly were.

Yet Still..
I mourn him…