3AM Moments
The night is quiet,
but inside me, there’s a scream I can’t let out.
They say it’s easier to think at this hour —
but what keeps replaying
are the days when she had your time,
and I was left like I never mattered.
I’m mad.
At you.
At her.
At myself —
for still feeling this way
when I know I shouldn’t.
I want to curse you both,
throw every unspoken word like broken glass,
shatter the silence with everything I held back.
But even if I scream into the void,
what difference would it make?
You won’t hear me.
You don’t care anymore.
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And that’s what hurts the most —
not that you left,
not that you chose her,
but that you left like I was easy to forget.
Like we were nothing.
Like I was a chapter you were eager to skip,
while I was still memorizing every line
we wrote together.
Yes, I’m angry.
Yes, I’m tired.
Yes, I know you’ve moved on.
And yes, I know I should too.
But how do you let go
of someone who let go of you
so easily?
It stings —
how I no longer want you back,
but still feel the weight of you in my chest.
It’s not love anymore,
it’s just the ache of being replaced
by someone who didn’t even see my battle scars.
So here I am again —
three in the morning,
carrying memories that refuse to sleep,
talking to ghosts you left behind,
trying to stitch myself back together
while you rest peacefully
next to the one you chose.
And maybe tomorrow,
I’ll wake up a little stronger.
Maybe one day,
your name won’t burn as much.
But tonight,
I’ll sit with the pain,
because pretending I’m fine
hurts more than just admitting
that I’m still not okay.
