All the things I gave him

The way I was always thinking of him—
of what he liked, what he said,
that he was alive at the same time as me.
I thought it was a miracle.

I turned him into a god I wanted to please so badly—
if he had asked for my arm,
I would have chopped it off myself.
But it was worse,
because he never asked.

And even then—

I gave him my heart.

I gave him my life.

I gave him my soul.

And then he left.