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Why did you leave me, dear friend? 

I miss the way your gaze would interlock with mine 

I miss your quirky laugh and the way you would stumble over your own two feet 

I miss the way you would softly caress my cheek and hold my chin lightly in your palm

I miss the way you’d pretend to have errands to run as an excuse to come visit me 

I miss our playful banter and even the silent moments we shared.


You see,

I never opened myself up in this way

You stole my first “yes” and carelessly tossed it to the side

Left as nothing but a soulless word hanging from the tip of my tongue. 

Perhaps “we” never even mattered

Perhaps you never really cared.

a woman sits on the edge of a deck overlooking the forest
Chris Ainsworth | Unsplash

I thought our petals could blossom in unison. 

Complimentary colours basking beneath the golden sun

But we never made it to spring.


Like the wind, you slipped right through my fingertips

Without even saying goodbye

I wish I could have shown you my heart

I wish you could have shown me yours

I lay awake each night wondering if any of it was even real 

Nothing remains

Except for the silence that lingers between us

The burden of unfulfilled potential.

Hero image appropriate for article on Unhealthy Relatioships - image of a question mark
Photo by Emily Morter on Unsplash

Why did you hurt me, dear friend? 

Why did you take the knife and slice my chest open while I lie asleep? 

Why didn’t you choose the poison? 

Why didn’t you choose the pill?

It could have all been seamless that way

Instead, all I am left with is the echo of our laughter in that empty parking lot 

Nothing but that coffee-stained brick that holds the ghost of a distant memory 

A bare chin and cheeks that no longer blush.


The colorless leaves of the forest’s frail trees begin to immerse with the radiance of its summer spirit

A state of transition

Where confusion reigns.

white flower
Aaron Burden

Why did you leave me, dear friend? 

My heart lay in pieces

And despite my best intention to put it back together, its contents remain lost in my sea of tears.

Whether it be a fictional escape to an alternate reality or an emotional liberation amid the pages of my journal, writing has always been a light in the midst of my darkness.
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