"You can miss someone who was never yours."
— Unknown

⸻

I began keeping the petals.

Not as keepsakes.
But as proof that the pain was real.
That I had once loved you so much, my body began refusing to live without your eyes on me.

I prepared three small glass jars.
The kind used for powdered medicine or peppermint candies.
I tucked them into the bottom drawer, next to my travel bag, labelled with cough syrup stickers to avoid suspicion.

One jar for the days you said you were in love with someone else.
One jar for every time you kissed someone and then wrote a song about them.
And the last...
for those moments you looked at me and said, "Thank you. You're so good to me,"
with the kind of innocent smile that had no idea it had just crushed a heart coughing up blood.

⸻

This week, you had a breakup.

Brief, dazzling, and gone in a flash — like fireworks.
But enough for a new song.

I got the update from your stylist:

"Gawin hasn't eaten since last night. Seems like a breakup. He's a little quiet today."

I didn't say anything.
Just opened the food delivery app.
Ordered an iced Americano — less ice, no sweetener.
Added a pepperoni pizza — your favourite.
Sent it to your room without a word.

A few hours later, you texted:

"I just wrote a verse. It's so good."
"Wanna hear the demo?"

⸻

I didn't reply.
I didn't have it in me to hear you ache for someone else again.
But that evening, when you sent me the demo anyway,
I opened it in silence.

Put on headphones.
Turned the volume up.
Switched off the lights.
Closed the door.

Sat alone.
Darkness.
No one knew I was listening.
No one knew I was crying.

⸻

You sang in a hoarse, stinging voice.
The kind people use when rereading old letters.
No begging. No blame.
No screaming. No stories.
Just... love worn down into a sigh.

I sat there, back against the hotel window,
the glow of the streetlights reflected on my cheek. Glittering.
My fingers gripped the armrest.
Each lyric pulled at me —
like it was peeling flesh from bone,
without a sound.

And I cried.

Not because you broke up.
Not because you hurt.
But because for the first time,
I let myself imagine that you were singing it for me.

I wanted to pretend.
To fantasize.
To lie to myself.
To live in the illusion that you once loved me like that.

⸻

I had never felt so weak.
Just one song...
about someone you no longer loved,
was enough to make me feel like you'd killed me all over again.

I wondered —
If I had been the one to hurt you,
at least I would've existed in your lyrics.

But I wasn't the one you loved.
I was never granted the right to break your heart.
Only to mop up your tears, call your cab, and cancel your morning interviews.

⸻

That night, I coughed until I couldn't stand.

Three petals.
One landed on my phone.
One stuck to my shirt.
One fell into my cold glass of water, floating sideways, half-submerged, as if it were drowning.

I picked them all up.
Placed them in the third jar.
Labelled it with shaky handwriting:

"Your voice. My funeral hymn."

⸻

I had just finished wiping the desk when my phone buzzed.
Caller ID: Gawin.

I stared at the screen, bit down, coughed quietly, and swallowed blood.
Answered the call.

Your voice rang bright —
as if the ache from a few hours ago had never existed.

"Hey, do you think the bridge sounds better with just piano, or should I add a bit of cello?"

I wiped the blood off my wrist with a tissue, shoved it deep into the trash bin,
and answered — like always —
still the reliable, competent manager,
even with my heart torn to shreds:

"Cello. But keep it slightly raw.
Leave it unfinished.
Like a promise left hanging."

You paused. Then laughed.

"You get me so well."
"Thanks, seriously."
"Oh, and... do you think it's too sad? Is it too much?"

I stared at the blood staining my palm.
So red. So sticky. So vivid.

Swallowed again.
Spoke like none of it ever happened:

"It's okay. Just sad enough to not be forgotten."

⸻

[Lyric excerpt — "Funeral Hymn"]
I loved you like a quiet prayer,
Soft enough to go unheard.
If I buried you in every verse,
Would you still come back as a song?

⸻