false

You don't get it.
I need to make sure
it's perfectly clear
how non-insignificant he was.
I need to make it clear
because memory fades
and everything in the past
become uncertain
tangled
a hazy dream you can not recover.

I'm terrified I'll forget.

He was the person
who made me feel loved with a touch.
He could be violent if he wanted,
I knew,
but he never lifted a finger on me
never so much as raised his voice to me.

He was quick-tempered,
I knew,
but never with me.
He was a safe-place,
the silence when even the white noise
died down.

He was in love with me,
I knew,
the way I know
I'd trust him with myself completely.

He'd come undone
he would unravel for me
and I loved him all the more
for choosing to do that with me.
He hated when I cried
said he felt like he did that to me.

Oh,
I was not in love with him
but I loved him
I do love him.

It's why I let him go.
I know myself enough
to know when I become too restless
to know when I'm about to become too selfish
too hurtful.

"Oh," I said
"I left you some lipstick marks."
"Those are the least of the marks
you'll leave me with."

"Know,
that for me,
you will always be the sweetest girl there is."