You do not know
that somewhere,
in a heart you’ve never borrowed,
you have a name
that isn’t really yours.
I call you Mine—
not because I own you,
but because hope
needed something gentle to call home.
You never promised me forever.
You never spoke words
that tangled themselves around my heart.
You simply existed.
Soft eyes.
A quiet smile.
A glance that lasted
just long enough
for my thoughts to spend months
wondering what it meant.
Perhaps it meant nothing.
Perhaps everything.
The funny thing about hope
is that it survives
on the smallest things—
a familiar face,
the memory of standing
under the same sky
for a handful of ordinary moments.
Before you,
love had sharp edges.
It taught me
how someone could choose another
while I was still learning
how to choose myself.
It left echoes
that sounded like
“not enough.”
Then you arrived
without trying.
You didn’t heal me.
People are not medicine.
But somehow,
you reminded me
that my heart
hadn’t forgotten
how to bloom
at the sight of kindness.
Sometimes I wonder
if we’ll remain
a story that never begins.
Two people
walking through separate cities,
living separate lives,
never knowing
how close possibility once stood.
And if that’s true,
I’ll still be grateful.
Because you returned
a piece of me
I thought I’d buried forever—
the girl
who could still look at someone
and imagine tomorrow
without fear.
Maybe one day
you’ll love someone else.
Maybe one day
I’ll love someone else.
Maybe our names
were only meant
to pass each other
like rain meeting the sea.
But if fate
ever grows sentimental,
and lets our paths cross again,
I hope you’ll meet
the version of me
who no longer wonders
whether she’s worth choosing.
The one who smiles
without pretending.
The one who has become
her own safe place.
And if, somehow,
your hand finds mine,
I won’t call it destiny.
I’ll simply smile
and think—
“So this is why hope waited.”
Until then,
I’ll keep your memory
where all beautiful uncertainties belong:
not in my hands,
but quietly,
among the stars
that taught me
how to admire something
without needing
to possess it.
