Where Are You Now Though?

i can still feel your kaleidoscopic eyes on me.

after all, it was me who made the mistake of meeting them.

under the dining table lights,

those golden freckles, framed by lashes that looked too perfect to be real,

undressing me.

four walls, a mattress, and us eating out of takeout boxes.

sharing songs, laughing at things that only made sense to us.

every time i pass that park, nostalgia hits me hard.

where are you now though?

sometimes i wonder if you ever think of me.

not the way we were,

but the way we ended up

two people who used to know everything about each other

and now pretend not to.

i replay our last conversation sometimes,

trying to spot when the silence began.

was it a message you didn’t reply to?

or something i said that didn’t land right?

maybe it just faded the way things do quietly, without warning.

we used to talk about everything.

those late-night talks where it felt like the world had shrunk to just us.

you told me things no one else knew.

and i told you mine.

the kind of secrets that make you feel naked even when you’re fully dressed.

then one day, you were gone.

now you’re just a memory that shows up uninvited.

in a song, a smell, a random thought.

sometimes i want to reach out,

but i stop myself.

not because i don’t care,

but because i don’t know if i still belong anywhere in your life.

the truth is, people leave.

sometimes they don’t mean to.

sometimes they do.

either way, it hurts the same.

so if you ever walk past that park again,

or hear one of our songs,

i hope it makes you smile.

because for a while, we were real.

and that’s enough for me.