You said,
"Letʼs hang out, the three of us."
So I said yes,
like always.
Like everything.
But when we got there,
just two seats taken,
one forever empty.
"Did he cancel?"
I asked.
You looked up from his drink.
"No. I forgot to call him."
Just like that.
Forgot.
Like forgetting promises.
Like forgetting how easy it is
to fall for someone
who never gave you the space to stay.
We sat there,
laughing like nothing was wrong.
Like this wasnʼt a trick.
Like this wasnʼt a date
dressed in excuses.
I watched you sip your coffee,
eyes never leaving mine too long.
And I wondered,
what part of me you needed tonight̶
a friend to talk to?
a shoulder to lean on?
or just a fool to keep close
without the risk of calling it love?
You forgot.
But I wonʼt.
Not the empty chair.
Not the look in his eyes.
Not the feeling
of almost being wanted.