I Was Afraid to Be Soft

But love found me anyway, and I wasn’t ready

I’m sorry I never learned how to hold your warmth.
Maybe I just wasn’t brave enough
to recognize your light
when it was still shining on me.

I didn’t want to lose you.
But my heart and my mind
were speaking different languages.
And I stood between them,
silent.

It wasn’t pride.
It was fear.

I’ve said “sorry” more times than I can count,
but the truth is,
I was never afraid of love.
I was afraid of being soft.
I thought becoming cold would make me stronger,
safer.
I didn’t know it would only make me lonely.

I grew up watching love fall apart in quiet rooms,
watching people carry heartbreak
like it was part of their shadow.
So I made a promise to myself,
never be broken.

But no one tells you
you can still be shattered
without anything actually ending.

I smiled with you
when I should have told you the truth.
I played strong,
independent,
untouched,
like someone who didn’t need saving.

But the truth is
I was still trying to figure out
who I even was.

And somehow,
you saw me
before I saw myself.

Maybe we didn’t lose forever.
Maybe we just found it
at the wrong time.

And maybe one day,
time will feel guilty
and lead us back to the same place.

But when I finally understand myself,
you won’t be there.

You’ll be somewhere far away,
in a new country,
under a different sky,
living the life you were always meant to chase.

And I will still be here,
learning how to miss someone
who once felt like home.

You were the sunrise.
And I woke up too late.
I was the moon.
And you fell asleep too early.

My mind knows
some people only exist in one chapter.
But my foolish heart
still rereads the same page,
hoping the ending changes.

If I ever crossed an ocean for you,
would you still be waiting on the shore?

They say many people can admire a beautiful soul,
but only a few can make you believe you have one.
You were one of the rare ones.

You loved me
when I was made of shadows.
And maybe that’s why it scares me,
because now I know
how it feels to be loved in the dark.

Maybe I don’t miss you.
Maybe I just miss
the version of me
that existed beside you.

I always loved you as a friend.
And maybe I was too afraid
to let that love grow into something deeper.

I don’t know
if it would change
even if we met again.

Maybe that’s the cruelest part,
not losing you,
but not knowing
what we could have been.

Am I selfish for holding on to ghosts?
You always called me selfless.
But here I am,
still wishing time had paused
just once.

All I really want to say is this:

Thank you
for being real in a world that pretends.
Thank you
for loving me
when I didn’t know how to love myself.

And I’m sorry.

Sorry for not stopping you.
Sorry for understanding too late.
Sorry that some people
only realize the value of warmth
after winter begins.

A gentle reminder:
Be with the people you love while you can.
You can be independent and still be full of love.

Be kind. Be real. Be you.
And if someone loves you for who you truly are,
don’t let go too easily.

Don’t ignore the moment.
Not everything needs overthinking.

Because sometimes…
what if it goes right?