Unanswered Whys

 

I gave you my heart, steady and sure,
but you placed it in trembling hands,
telling me I deserved more,
telling me you could not be the man I needed
as if love was a question of worth,
as if I had asked for anything more than you.

 

Now, I watch from the edges of what we were,
a silent witness to your new beginnings.
You follow shadows of a love before me,
and she, with open arms, welcomes you back
like I was never a pause in your story,
just a chapter that never made it to print.

 

And it aches
not just in the loss of you,
but in the quiet realization
that I was ready to build a future you never saw.
That you are moving on
while I am still sifting through the rubble
of what I thought we could be.

 

But maybe love is not about being chosen,
not about waiting for steady hands to hold us.
Yet still, I wait
through the quiet ache of missing you,
through the prayers whispered into the night.
I cry to the Lord, asking, pleading,
to bring you back to me, to make a way.

 

But love is a mystery I cannot untangle,
a path I cannot walk alone.
And maybe, just maybe,
it's not about waiting for you to return,
but about learning to stand
even when my heart still longs for you.