What We Don’t Have

We all want what we don’t have—

the single heart wants someone near,

a hand to hold through quiet nights,

a voice that says, I’m always here.

The married heart may miss the days

when silence felt like something kind,

when every choice was hers alone,

with no one else to weigh in mind.

We see the flowers, not the thorns,

the photographs, but not the fights,

the smiling faces at the table,

not the tears that come at night.

Some vows grow stronger through the years,

some fade beneath the weight of pain.

Some people stay because of love,

and some stay out of fear and shame.

Not every marriage is a shelter.

Some homes are lonely, cold, and small.

You can lie beside somebody

and feel you have no one at all.

And being single is not failure,

not an empty life to mourn.

Sometimes peace arrives in solitude.

Sometimes freedom is reborn.

There is grace in choosing yourself,

in learning how to stand alone,

in filling every quiet corner

with a life that is your own.

Love can be a precious blessing,

but love should never be a chain.

A ring does not ensure forever,

and staying does not cancel pain.

We all want what we don’t have,

because distance makes it shine.

But happiness is not a status,

nor a promise sealed in time.

Some find joy in growing together.

Some find joy when they depart.

Some are whole within a marriage.

Some are whole with their own heart.

So do not envy from the outside.

Every life has hidden weather.

Happily ever after may mean

loving someone—

or leaving—

or simply loving yourself better.