Better With You, Broken Without

I want you to be happy.
Selfishly, I want that happiness to be me.

But I’m no longer the name
your heart answers to.
Not the hand you reach for
without thinking.
And still, it aches.

I tell myself to let go,
like it’s as simple as unclenching a fist,
but you’ve woven yourself
into every essential fiber of my being.

With you, I feel limitless,
like the world softens,
like anything is within reach…
anything except you.

I swear I’m better when you’re near,
but doubt lingers like a shadow:
is that truth,
or just something I tell myself to stay?

Would I be stronger without you?
Would I finally breathe
if I learned how to walk away?

I don’t have the answer.
Only this;

I want you beside me,
even if loving you
is what slowly buries me.