If You Want the Truth

I  messed up.

Not once, not twice.

But over and over

in ways I didn’t even see

until you were gone.

I blamed the world

the stress

the illness

the weight

the timing

but I never looked long enough

at the man in the mirror.

I should’ve listened

when your silence got louder

should’ve reached for you

instead of retreating inside myself

and calling it survival.

You gave me grace

and I wasted it.

You asked for honesty

and I gave you fragments

because I was scared

you’d leave if you saw the whole mess.

I didn’t tell you I was hurting.

I didn’t tell you I was scared.

I didn’t tell you my body

was shutting down

before my heart ever did.

And when you needed strength,

I gave you absence.

When you needed warmth,

I gave you confusion.

When you needed a man,

you got a ghost.

I see that now.

So if you’re wondering

whether I ever loved you—

the answer is yes.

Still yes.

Always yes.

But love without action

without accountability

without presence

hurts more than hate.

And I did that to you.

I see it.

I own it.

And I’m sorry

from every place in me

that didn’t speak up when it mattered most.

I hope someday you feel peace

even if it’s not with me.

But if this poem finds you,

I hope you know

this man—

finally—

gets it.