vanya.

one

there was a night.

something burned through me that wasn’t about you. not even a little.

and i said something i never meant.

not to you. never to you.

two

in all the time i knew you,

you never said a single bad word about me.

not once. not even when you had every reason to.

three

when anyone else would have screamed,

when anyone else would have made me pay for it,

you said —

“lovely knowing you.”

three words.

softer than anything i deserved.

they have not left my head since.

four

i didn’t.

i’d do it again tomorrow.

and the day after.

and the day after that.

five

you closed every door.

i don’t blame you. not for one second.

so i built one you didn’t know existed —

not to ask for a reply.

not to take a single minute back.

not to be forgiven.

just to make sure that somewhere, in some quiet corner of the internet,

this exists:

six

i’m sorry.

not for the version of me you saw that night.

for the version of me you trusted —

for not protecting him for you.

you were the one person who never said a bad word about me.

i should have been the one person who never gave you a reason to.