I never needed your love,
though it seemed like the thing to want
at the time,
like everyone else was reaching for it
as if it were some kind of fruit
on a tree that only grew for others.

But as it turns out,
I never needed it at all.
It was always mine,
wrapped up in the quiet places
where I went looking for something
I was already carrying,
like a coat on a warm day.

So I let it go—
your love,
and the idea of it
drifting like a balloon in the wind.
Now I stand here
with what’s always been mine,
the love that never asked for anything
but to simply be.