Confession: I Loved You More When You Were Gone

I kept your ghost in my messages,
and reread them like prayers.

I loved you more when you were gone—
when your presence couldn't disappoint,
when your silence couldn't break my heart,
when I could imagine you as perfect.

The version of you that lived in my memory
was kinder than the one who walked away.
The version I constructed from fragments
was more real than the person you became.

I held onto your absence like a talisman,
wrapped myself in the comfort of what was,
and what could have been,
and what never would be.

The truth is, I didn't love you—
I loved the idea of you.
I loved the possibility of us.
I loved the ghost more than the person.

And maybe that's why you left.
Maybe you knew I was in love with a shadow,
not the substance of who you are.

So here's my confession:
I loved you more when you were gone,
because the you I loved was never really you at all.