The Illusion of Love

Following the peace I found in "The Encounter," I had to face a harder truth. Love isn't always a lighthouse; sometimes, it’s a mirror that reflects our own willingness to settle for less than we deserve. We often stay silent not because we are weak, but because we are trying to hold onto a ghost. This poem is about that delicate, painful threshold—knowing the lie, feeling the betrayal, yet choosing to stay for one more heartbeat, until the soul finally decides it has had enough.

I want to be naive when you appear at my door again.

I want to hide that I know

where you were before me.

I know you came to kiss me,

to speak words that sound like love.

But I also know…

that tonight you will go back to her.

I love you when I see you.

Perhaps I love your image more than your truth.

I was drawn to the way you look,

and your lies…

I learned to swallow them in silence.

I don’t react, because I know —

only through my silence do I keep you

a little longer in my life.

You go back to her, the one you say doesn’t belong to you,

but still, you always return to her.

I know you are lying to me.

I know you will never leave her.

And I… I wait for you.

I keep the desire for your embrace

even though I know you will never be mine.

But the day will come when I stop waiting.

Not because I don’t love you,

but because I will finally choose myself.

Choosing yourself is the hardest "goodbye" you will ever say, because it’s not just a goodbye to a person—it’s a goodbye to a version of yourself that believed in illusions. But once the door is closed, a new kind of strength begins to grow. In the next part of this series, I will explore the aftermath of that decision and the quiet power that comes with standing alone.