the chase

he only stays for the chase
for the thrill
for the rush
the temporary high

he wants a different high every time
a new flavour each month
so it always feels fresh
so it always feels like more

this—
this is what he calls his life

he might say sweet things like:
"i like what you like"
"i love you"
"i want kids, a family, a future"

but it’s just a script
just bait
just enough to make you stay

and if, by god’s grace,
you’ve started to trust actions over words—

he’ll twist it.
he’ll say you have trust issues.
he’ll say you’re hurting him
for not believing in his fairy tale

but the moment you soften
the moment you start to believe
start to think maybe this time
he means it—

he’ll begin to pull away

why?

because now it’s not new
there’s nothing left to chase
no more thrill in the stillness
he worked so hard to make you stay
just to want to leave again

huh.

so what now?

what do i do
when they come and go as they please
and gaslight me on the way out?

i’ll sit.
sip my margarita.
and watch the show.

i’ll make content out of it
laugh about it
write about it

because i have a life.
a real one.

i have work i love
things that matter
a family who backs me
a self that won’t shrink anymore

you think you can take me down
by hanging me out to dry?

darling—
i would love to see you try.