I said "No."
so casually.
like my heart wasn't already on someone else's shelf.
but in that moment,
I wanted to be someone else.
someone honest.
someone single.
someone you could trust.
you told me about your ex.
how you two started a business together,
sold secondhand books and handmade keychains.
you said it wasn't just romance—
it was a vision.
you built something.
you believed.
I never had that with Iris.
we just existed.
went to dinners, watched movies, posted stories,
called each other "babe" until it meant nothing.
you looked at your past
like it mattered.
and I looked at mine
like it never had a chance.
and then I did something worse.
I didn't see a future in her.
I didn't see a future in you.
I just wanted the present
to last a little longer.
but I kept lying.
to her.
to you.
to myself.
and when you asked me again someday—
"why didn't we ever go to that ramen place?"
I didn't have an answer.
just guilt.
and a list of things I never said.