In between the hellos and goodbyes,
Where you and I once danced to the rhythm of love,
I was there—

Not in love, not in joy,
But dwelling on what could’ve been.

I hate that you vanished without any goodbyes,
How you shattered every part of me I had built for years.
I was scattered like broken glass mishandled by a toddler,
A mess you made, leaving me to sweep up alone.

But somewhere in between,
You’re still here,
And I still yearn for you.

You’re still here. The scent of you lingers—
Faint but persistent,
Clinging from your sweater that you once wrapped around me.
You’re still here. The warmth of your touch still haunts my skin,
A ghost of comfort I couldn’t resist.
And your lips—
How they’d pucker just before a kiss.
How they’d hesitate,
Afraid of making promises you knew you couldn’t keep.

In between the pages of the books I read,
In the steam rising from the coffee I sip each morning,
And in the playlist we shared,
The one I refuse to delete,
You’re still here.

You exist in the mundane,
In the spaces love once lived out loud.

And if ever you come back home to me,
Know that I’m still in between—
Caught in the turmoil of what was and what could’ve been.

- Gerielle Anne Afos
(Illustration by Iya Maxine Linga/FEU Advocate)