leaving
you always leave first because you learned a long time ago that if you ruin it on purpose it hurts less than being surprised. maybe what really breaks you is the way no one has ever tried to stop you, not once, not with any real force, like every time you pulled back you were half-hoping to finally meet someone who would reach in.
now what you have is this: a strange talent for loving people in ways they never recognize as love until you're already walking away with your hands half-raised like someone approaching a stray dog. like you know how this ends, but you still want to show them you meant no harm, like maybe the performance of regret can retroactively make the affection count.
here's the part you won't say out loud: if someone had asked you to stay, really asked, you wouldn't have known how. isn't it sad how the worst part of being the one who always leaves is that no one is ever surprised to see you go?
(maybe they let you go not because they didn't love you but because they didn't believe you were capable of anything else?)