The Moth and the Flame

I took a deep breath to steady myself before rolling the ball away.
Every cell in my being shouting at me—
“But what if we just stay?”

For another month.
For another week.
For another day.

“What would make Kim stay?”
Echoes of a version of you
that I had thought actually saw me—for me.

Back when I felt like having you in my life
was a never-quite-spoken brag.
Back when it felt like
you were someone that actually had my back.

We’re getting too old
to keep coming back
to play the same version of an old game—
never quite sure
who in the situation was the moth
and which one of us was the flame.

A picture that I no longer keep beside my bed,
inside of an invisible frame.
At least this last chapter
started and ended
in a way that was
unnaturally tame.

No final blow-up.
No last grand gesture.
Just a soft fade—
like music slipping out a car window.

And maybe that’s the part that lingers.
Not the words we said—
but the ones we didn’t.

I’m not rewriting the ending.
Just rereading it slower now,
realizing the foreshadowing was always there—
I just didn’t want to spoil the plot.
At least this time we can say that we both learned a lot.