1. I left because you made me believe that you wanted me in your life when you didn’t.
You would text just to ask how my day was and call to say goodnight before you went to sleep. When I’d tell you I was held up and not to rush you’d tell me that you’d rather be an hour early than five minutes late.
You told me you liked hearing about my family and watching me laugh. Everything was perfect, until real life knocked on your door and all of a sudden you didn’t want to introduce us. I existed for you in some alternate romantic dimension. I was an escape from your daily life but not a part of it. I felt dismissed, so I left.
2. I left because you let me.
Love isn’t an anchor that buries itself in waiting; it’s a dance, a movement, a response. There are only so many times that you can start a story with, “I’ve never told anyone this but—,” before there is an implied intimacy.
You don’t get coffee at midnight with someone you have no feelings for. You can’t ask for someone’s love, time, and energy and run around with it, without intentions of giving any back. So when there was no courage in you to tell me to stay, to come closer, I left.
3. I left because I could have been any girl to you.
You didn’t need me as much as you needed a mirror for yourself and your vanity that you misnamed as passion. You wanted someone to give to you, to offer themselves to you, to answer every call. And you wanted to give nothing in return.
You didn’t know me or make any effort to learn. You’d tell me I was beautiful, in a broken attempt to make me stay, but you weren’t talking about anything more than what your hands could touch. I am not a thing to be had, so I left.