You weren’t mine to lose
They said losing someone you once had is the most painful heartbreak you’d never want to experience.
Just the thought of losing someone you loved most — the person you’re with through everything, the person who made you feel loved and safe, the person who showed you different kinds of “to be loved is to be ____,” the person who pops into your mind when you hear love songs, the person who’s your inspiration and muse in some of your poems and stories — already makes your heart shatter to pieces. So, how much more if it did happen that you lost that person? I bet the pain would be endless like a river that flows without interruption.
However, I beg to differ that losing someone you had is the most painful. While it is undeniably excruciating, but I don’t think it reaches the level where ‘most’ should be used to make it the superlative in this context.
Personally, I think the most painful is losing someone you never once owned.
Losing someone you never owned is like watching a sunset. You admire its beauty and feel a deep connection to it, but you can’t keep it or hold it in your hands. When it’s gone, you’re left with the memory and the longing, but you never had the power to make it stay.
It’s akin to reading a captivating book that you didn’t write; you feel intertwined with its characters and story, but you have no claim over its creation or continuation. When the last page is turned, you mourn the loss of something that was never truly yours to begin with.
There’s no closure, no tangible end to what was shared. You’re left with “what ifs,” and “could’ve beens,” wondering about the possibilities that never occurred.
The ache is compounded by the knowledge that you either haven’t had the chance to take the risk and are already feeling defeated, or you tried but were never given an opportunity to be with them.
It’s like they’re slipping away from you before you even get the chance to hold on to them.
Losing someone you never had is a private sorrow, felt deeply within, and often carried alone. It’s a gradual, sometimes unnoticed drifting apart, leaving behind a lingering sense of incompleteness.
It’s like falling in love with a dream. You invest your heart in it, nurture it with your thoughts, and envision a future that could have been. But when you wake up, you’re left with the realization that it was never real, never yours. The pain is not just from losing the person, but from losing the potential and the hope that accompanied them.
To live for the hope of it all
Cancel plans just in case you’d call
And say, ‘Meet me behind the mall’
Oftentimes, you might find yourself consumed by the hope of a future with someone, dreaming about what could be if you were given the chance to be together. You cling to the possibility of a meaningful connection, and even when the other person is unsure or non-committal, you remain readily available, always willing to drop everything and be there if they reach out.
Despite their uncertainty, you remain hopeful and accommodating, willing to adjust your plans and make space for any spontaneous chance to be with them.
Yet despite making yourself always available for someone, dreaming of what could have been, and planning your future together, some people are just not willing to do the same for you, keeping you at arm’s length, not letting you get close.
You might find yourself caught in a loop of “what might have been,” replaying moments and conversations, searching for signs and meanings in the smallest of interactions. You question your own perceptions and feelings, wondering if you misread signals or built up something in your mind that was never there.
There’s a profound sadness in recognizing that someone who touched your heart so deeply might never fully understand the impact they had on you. It’s an unrequited love, not just in the romantic sense, but in the sense of unreciprocated connection and understanding.
Losing someone you never owned is a lesson in the impermanence of life and the fragility of our emotional bonds.
It’s a reminder that not all connections are meant to last, and that some people come into our lives only to leave a lasting impression, rather than a lasting presence. And in that fleeting connection, there’s a beauty and a pain that are uniquely intertwined.
If one day you decide to fall in love again. Seek out a love that endures through every season — a love that doesn’t fade with the changing weather.
Find someone who sees you not just as a fleeting summer romance, but as a cherished companion whose love transcends all seasons.
Someone who won’t make you relate to Taylor Swift’s “August.”
Look for a love that weathers the storms, blossoms in the spring, thrives in the summer, warms the autumn, and withstands the chill of winter.
You deserve to be loved in every season.
