I Was Never Going To Be The One For You
I was never going to be the one for you.” But what does that even mean—was it fate, timing, or something broken in me you saw too clearly? Did you know from the beginning, when our eyes first met, that I was only a chapter and not the story? Or did something change—something I couldn’t see, something I couldn’t fix? If I was never going to be the one, why did you look at me like I was? Why did you speak to me like I mattered, like I was the only person in the room? Maybe the cruelest part of that sentence isn’t the ending—it’s that I believed I could be.
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