This is why I left:
I saw a life with you. Not in a romantic way, but the way where when I looked at the future I saw you sitting at my dining table, confessing your worries for the 1,800th time. I saw you meeting the love of my life and introducing me to yours. I saw you loving my kids like they were your own and I saw us loving each other - platonically, simply.
But through our late night conversations about the world and about our futures - mere kids aspiring to be something great in a city that was always so poor - you spoke more about the way my smile lit your world up instead of what you’d do to create your own. You stopped fantasizing about meeting the love of your life and insisted that I was already in it, despite the fact that I said it wasn’t what I wanted. That this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
I caught the lingering stares and the subtle comments. More than anything, I noticed how we changed; how you tried to force something on me that I didn’t want, and how you kept getting hurt in the process - silently blaming me for not reciprocating feelings that I didn’t harbor in the first place. 

Three years later and I feel the hatred steam off of you when you see me on the corner of my block. I ripped you off of me like a dying limb because I knew that if I held on to you, you’d  cling for dear life - never looking forward to another version of your own future again. I left because I’d rather hurt you now and have you move on in due time, as opposed to not at all. I didn’t want you meeting the love of my life with a cold smile and tension wrapped around your first handshake. I didn’t want you to go home at night with no one beside you. I didn’t want you to look at my kids and wish they were ours. I didn’t want you to look backwards. I needed you to look forward.

I broke your heart for your own good. But believe me when I say that you broke mine, too.

—  Fri[end]zoned // n.b.
Even if you find
someone new,
to talk to every night,
to hang out with every day,
to share the giggles and
laughter at some
secret jokes,
to walk with and tell
wonderful stories,
I am still here,
waiting for you
to knock at my door
and sit beside me,
like we never missed
each other,
I am still here,
even if you’re not asking.
I am still here,
even if you weren’t
going to be there
for me anymore.
—  ma.c.a // A Promise