i knew everything about you— but you barely knew my name

funny how we meet people,
as strangers,
and think we’ll stay that way.

but some strangers don’t just pass by…
they notice.

and you noticed my heart
when no one else did.

that was something
i quietly admired about you—
you had this way
of seeing the good in people,
the beautiful details
no one else paid attention to.

you were sharp,
sensitive,
curious.

but somewhere along the way…
you betrayed that gift.

you saw me,
but then you stopped looking.
you judged me
before you listened.
you let assumptions
paint over the things
you once said
you loved in me.

and i keep wondering—
was it ever real?
or was i just
a momentary curiosity
in a world
you never intended
to understand deeply?

i thought you knew me.
but maybe you only knew
the parts of me
that were easy to like.

the soft edges.
the pretty parts.
the versions of me
that didn’t challenge you.

and that’s the thing, isn’t it?
some people don’t really love us—
they love the idea of us.
they love the way we made them feel,
not who we truly are.

people will memorize your smile,
your stories,
your rhythm…
but still forget your name
when it’s convenient.

i don’t blame you anymore.
not really.
i’ve just learned
not to get too attached
to people who only look at you
in the light,
but disappear
when your shadows show.

so if you ever wonder
why i walked away—
remember,
i stayed long after
you stopped seeing me.

and maybe, just maybe…
one day you’ll meet someone
who sees you the way i did—
completely,
quietly,
deeply.

and when they walk away too...
you’ll understand.