Writers 
*THE LOVE I ALMOST LOST TO PRIDE*
It wasn't that I didn't love you,
I loved you in the most stubborn way.
I loved you with silence when you needed words,
I loved you with distance when you needed closeness.
You would say "Stay,"
And pride would make me walk away.
You would say "Talk to me,"
And ego would zip my mouth shut.
I was counting who was wrong,
While you were counting how much longer you could hold on.
I was waiting for you to say sorry first,
While you were packing your tears in a box.
Pride made me a king with no kingdom,
A winner with no love left to celebrate with.
I was winning the argument,
But I was losing you — slowly, painfully.
I still remember that night,
Your eyes looked at me like a stranger,
Your voice cracked and said,
"If pride is what you want, you can have it. I am leaving."
That was when it hit me.
What is pride if I sleep alone?
What is ego if I eat alone?
What is "I am the man" if there is no woman to call my peace?
So I ran.
Not with legs,
But with apology.
I dropped my pride at your doorstep like a beggar drops his bowl.
I said, "Forgive me. I don't want to be right. I want to be with you."
And you — with your beautiful heart —
You forgave me.
I almost lost the love I begged God for,
To the pride God never gave me.
Today, I have learned,
Love is not about who is right,
Love is about who is willing to bend before everything breaks.
I almost lost you to pride,
But love brought you back to me.
