The Boy is mine

Lol.
I had my wedding date set before anything even began.
All my friends knew him.
Most of my family did too.
He wasn’t just a secret crush
He was the name I whispered into prayers I didn’t know I was still saying.

He made me happy.
Like… really happy.
Even my friends said it
“This is the happiest we’ve ever seen you.”
I always knew I had a lover girl heart,
But showing it?
That was the scary part.

Still, I said it. I showed it.
I couldn’t hide it
I was in love.

His calls and notifications lit up my days.
Those morning songs?
Always on repeat.
His name alone could make me blush like a schoolgirl.
I couldn’t play it cool,
I couldn’t act like I didn’t care.
Because I did.
So much.

I talked about him to anyone who asked.
Even when the question was just,
“How are you?”
I felt he was already part of my life

He made life beautiful again.
But deep down,
I wasn’t sure if he was my truest
Or if I was just infatuated with his constant emotional presence.
And then it hit me:
I was terrified.
Terrified of losing him.

Maybe I hadn’t fully healed.
Maybe I was finally asking the right questions.
But answers never came.

So I started to pull away — slowly, silently.
Not out of anger,
But out of self-preservation.
The calls stopped thrilling me.
The butterflies stopped dancing.
I knew I had experienced my best virtual fairytale.
And I knew
It was time to leave.

The boy was mine.
At least, that’s what I believed.
Until I found myself back in that same loop,
Asking the same questions
I once asked the ghosts of my past.

And then… I left.