We Almost Happened, Didn't We

I met you in a season that wasn't ready for us-

the air too thin, the days too loud,

our lives running parallel like two trains

passing at midnight,

windows glowing,

faces lit,

hands lifted—

but no platform between us.

.............

God, but I could've loved you.

Loved you like old rivers love their banks,

like weary travelers love the first warm window

after days of cold wandering.

You were that window—

that soft, amber promise

that maybe I wasn't meant to wander forever.

...........

I saw our whole life flicker between us

in quiet, ordinary gestures:

your laugh cracking open a room,

the way your eyes softened

when you said my name—

as if you already knew the ending

and wished fate had written us differently.

.............

We would've been easy—

that's the cruel part.

No battles, just unfolding.

A slow-growing comfort,

like chairs that remember our shapes,

like bread rising on the counter

as sunlight drips through the curtains

in some small kitchen we never reached.

.............

But time—

time was a jealous tyrant

and we were fools

trying to love in borrowed hours.

.............

You had storms you hadn't learned to name,

and I had wounds that still whispered

in the dark corners of my ribs.

We missed each other by inches,

by seasons,

by choices still warm in our hands.

.............

And yet—

when you smiled,

I felt the future exhale.

I saw us grey-haired,

soft-voiced,

sitting on a porch overlooking a life

we somehow built without breaking.

.............

Tell me you felt that too—

the almost

breathing between us,

the universe leaning in

as if to whisper

Look—look at what could be,

if only you were ready at the same time.

.............

I will think of you years from now,

in the hush of some quiet morning,

coffee cooling in my hands,

and I will still wonder

how close we came

to being the miracle

we needed.

............

Wrong time,

right person—

the most tender tragedy

I have ever known.