Missing The Person I Was With Her

My presence became a cushion

in a world of hers

that never really had a place for me.

I didn't disappear to punish her.

I disappeared to loosen

the attachment I had to her.

I once thought being seen,

being available, being constant,

that was what love meant.

But somewhere along the way,

I was simply taken for granted.

My identity became too tied to her.

Maybe my love felt less like freedom

and more like dependence on her presence.

And then I had to ask myself...

How much of me was truly me

when I was with her?

And how much of me remained

when she wasn't there?

Maybe that is where the answer lies.

When I was around her,

my words became too many.

My voice, my advice,

my help, my care...

everything I gave

slowly became background noise.

I slept with her dreams

and forgot to wake up.

Because being with her in my dreams

felt almost the same

as being with her in real life.

Maybe I wasn't only missing her.

Maybe I was missing

the person I had become

while loving her.

By

Sanji-Paul Arvind