The Quiet Grief of Almost

Unrequited love.
How heavy it feels.
The depth of feelings
kept close in this gentle embrace
of longing,
of your arms wrapped around
what will never lean back.

It’s a love with nowhere to go,
nowhere to rest,
only a hollow space
long after the door
has stayed closed.

I will carry you gently
in places you’ll never see.
And I will speak your name
only in my private thoughts,
where it can ache as it wants
without consequence.

This love is patient,
almost sacred in how it holds back.
Asking nothing,
but giving everything,
learning to survive
on nothing but absence.

There’s no anger here,
only a quiet grief
for what could have been
if timing had been better,
if courage had come sooner,
if love was ever enough
by itself.

Still, I hold it,
this warmth
this wanting
this soft
relentless
restless ache.

Knowing some loves
are not meant to be returned,
only endured,
and remembered
for how deeply
they taught us
to feel.

Poem by

Siân Williams