Things I want to say

I miss you, but I can’t even say what it is I truly miss. Did you ever really want me in your life? Or was I just filling a space until something—or someone—you deemed better came along?

Do you ever think of me? Or am I just another fleeting memory, someone you had fun with until you moved on without looking back?

It feels like I always end up here—giving too much, only to find myself alone. A pattern I can’t seem to escape.

There are a few who have stayed. Just a few. But most people leave. And I can’t stop wondering why. What is it about me that’s so easy to let go of?