what if
you said it that night—
"don't call me again."
what if you
hung up
instead of waiting
for me to say something
i never had the balls to say?
what if
you didn't pick up the phone
at one a.m.
when i said i couldn't sleep,
when you knew damn well
it wasn't about insomnia,
but guilt.
what if
you didn't help me
rewrite my resume
while your wrist still ached
from your last accident?
what if
you were cruel?
just once.
just enough to make me
stay away.
because you should've, right?
you should've blocked me,
burned the fucking bridges,
and watched me drown
in the mess i created.
but you didn't.
you stayed kind.
you still answered my late-night calls
like they were urgent.
you still remembered my interviews.
you still knew when i was lying.
you still fucking cared.
and that's what broke me.
because
you never asked me to leave.
but you never asked me to stay, either.
so what do you want, Hazel?
because i'm here.
in this half-existence.
not yours.
not hers.
just…
fucking floating in your silence