It Has Always Been Her You’ve Loved, Not Me

It was always her.

Even before you met me, she had long traced the lines of your palms with her fingers. She had long mapped out the planes and edges of your face. She had long since memorized every freckle and every scar on your body.

Her hands have left a permanent mark on your skin – one I can never hope to wipe away with my own because you knew her touch long before you knew mine.

It was always her.

Even before you knew me, she had first made you smile and laugh. She had first heard the sound of your voice at three in the morning and had first heard the words you still refuse to tell me. She had known you first, she had held your first, she had kissed you first, she had loved you first.

And I can never compare to that because anywhere I go, she already had been; anything I do, she already had done.

It was always her.

Even before you realized I meant something to you, she had been your whole world. She had known all your dreams and stories and fears – every single thing that goes on inside your head.

I was just a candle and she was your sun.

You needed me when your world momentarily turned dark, but then you always ended up walking back to her light when dawn broke because it was always her.

It will always be her, I know that now.

And so I’m not asking you to choose. I’m asking you to just please let me go.