In Another Light: An Elegy for My Love

I’m sorry for the weight I gave your chest,
for all the nights your heart forgot to rest.
For every silence that I left too loud,
for turning our sunshine into heavy clouds.

I’m sorry that I shook your steady ground,
for every time you felt I wasn’t around—
not just in body, but in soul and mind,
when you searched for love I failed to find.

You gave me truth, and I gave you fear.
You held me close when I wasn’t clear.
And though I’ve said I love you like a vow,
I know those words feel different now.

Still—
my love for you was never pretend.
It lived in me, from start to end.
We faltered, yes, in moments dark,
but even these ruin can’t erase the spark.

I suffer, too, in losing us.
In breaking what was built on trust.
You were my calm, my home, my grace,
and now—I miss your warmth, your voice, your face.

I can’t take back what I undid,
can’t heal with poems or things I heed.
But if you ever reach for peace,
I’ll meet you there, in quiet release.

Perhaps I failed as the love who stayed,
but maybe not as the friend who won’t let you fade.
If there’s still room, if you still believe—
I’ll be the one who doesn’t leave.