It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that you have someone to spend your days with,
someone who learns the rhythm of your laughter
not from memory, but from your lips in real time.

It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that she hears your voice when it cracks,
while mine only survives in echoes
that grow quieter each night.

It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that while you live your life beside the one
who makes you smile,
I am learning to live in a world
where I’ll never see that smile again.

It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that your friends know her name,
that your family folds her into their stories,
that your phone calls her first
when life hands you something worth sharing.

It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that even after you promised me a future,
you chose her instead.
That she holds your hand in the present,
while I hold on to the ghosts of what we were.

It’s not jealousy, it’s envy—
that she is your beginning,
while I remain your unfinished chapter.
She has you.
And I—
I only have the silence you left behind.

-Y