We Were Just Strangers Who Never Got the Timing Right

We didn’t fall in love.

Not officially. Not completely.

We just hovered there—on the edge of something big.

Two people who almost became something, but never quite made it.

Some nights, I think that’s more painful than an actual breakup.

Because how do you grieve someone who was never yours?

It wasn’t dramatic.

You didn’t walk into a room and steal the spotlight.

You were quiet. Soft-spoken. Observant.

But something about you made people lean in when you talked.

And one day, I leaned in too.

You laughed at something I said—genuinely.

And I remember thinking, “This could be something.”

We didn’t go on dates.

We had talks. Long, meandering ones at 1 AM.

About life. Family. Fears. That weird scar on your elbow.

There was no kissing under stars.

Just playlists we shared and memes that hit a little too close.

But it was real.

And real things stay with you, even if they don’t stay with you.

Timing.

You were healing from someone before me.

I was still unsure if I even deserved to be chosen.

We never talked about it directly.

But there were always pauses in our messages.

Spaces that said:

“I’m not ready.”

“This isn’t enough.”

Still, neither of us wanted to walk away.

So we held on—lightly.

Until one day, we didn’t.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No fight. No closure.

Just two people growing apart at a speed neither could match.

You stopped sending songs.

I stopped overthinking your silences.

And then we just… stopped.

You know what’s worse than heartbreak?

Almost.

Almost had something.

Almost said how I felt.

Almost mattered enough.

You didn’t break my heart.

You confused it.

You taught me that sometimes love doesn’t leave with a bang.

It fades—quietly.

And you don’t even notice it’s gone until you’re scrolling through old messages wondering where the version of you from back then went.

In fact, I wish you well.

I hope someone makes you feel safe in the way I tried to.

I hope your playlists are full of songs that remind you of peace instead of pain.

I hope you’ve stopped blaming yourself for things you couldn’t fix.

And if you ever think of me,

I hope it’s soft.

I hope it’s kind.

You don’t need a title to feel the loss.

Sometimes the most impactful connections are the ones you never saw coming—and never really understood until they were gone.

But just because something didn’t last,

doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.

We weren’t nothing.

We were a moment.

And that moment taught me:

• How to listen better.
• How to stay even when it’s uncomfortable.
• How to leave with grace when it’s time.

If you’ve ever bonded with someone who never officially became yours…

If you’re still haunted by what wasn’t said…

If you replay those “almost” moments like they were movies…

You’re not alone.

We carry these people quietly.

In the songs we don’t skip.

In the jokes we still remember.

In the version of ourselves they helped shape.

And maybe that’s enough.

Some are just sketches.

Unfinished.

Beautiful in their incompleteness.

We don’t talk anymore.

But sometimes I still feel you in the empty parts of my day.

And I smile.

Because we weren’t everything.

But we were something.

And that’s still worth remembering.