you’ve always been the light on my darkest days. maybe you never meant to be, but you were; in every small way that mattered. a laugh across the phone line, a song at midnight, the way your voice could soften even when the world around me didn’t. you’ve always had that kind of light, the quiet kind, the kind that doesn’t try too hard. and i wish i could’ve been that for you.
i wish i could be there when it gets heavy. i wish i could reach across the distance, take your hand, and steady you through it. there are nights when i still catch myself almost doing it, keys in hand, heart pounding, like if i drove far enough, i could save you. but it’s not that simple anymore, is it?
because it’s the same ache replaying. you out somewhere trying to forget, getting lost in someone elses noise, and ending the night asking why you’re still here. i know, i know, you love me. and i love you too. but love isn’t the same thing as saving- i’ve learned that the hard way.
you can’t keep reaching for me every time the dark hits, and i can’t keep believing i’m enough to pull you out of it. you have to find the light on your own; that stubborn, beautiful part of you that’s always refused to stay down. it’s still there, i swear it is. maybe buried, maybe quiet. but it’s there.
you’ve always been worth it. worth the mess, the hurt, the trying. you’re not broken, not beyond repair. you’re just tired, i get that. i’ve been tired, too.
some days, i don’t know how to tell you how much you matter without the words sounding small. so instead, i’ll tell you this: darkness always finds its way in, but so does light. yours did, into mine, over and over again.
so if tonight gets too long, hold on. if the road feels endless, keep driving. you’ll get there. and maybe it won’t be because of me, maybe it’ll be because you finally remembered who you are without me holding the map.
i’ll always believe in you, even from far away.
and i’ll always be proud of you for trying to stay.