All I want

I stay searching for answers to questions that have never escaped my lips. I long to face you again just so I have the closure of knowing it is the last time and retrieving back the part of me that you continue to carry around in your back pocket. I think I just really want to know what it’s like. What is it like to have been in both positions? To have been both the predator and the prey. When I met you she had torn you limb from limb. Left you beaten and bruised and with a scarred heart. But when I looked at you I saw who you were before her. I took your beaten heart and cradled it in my arms like a newborn child and was determined that I was going to nourish it back to its original state. I took your separated limbs and stitched them back perfectly so that you couldn’t even see the hem line. And you told me I had saved you. Saved you from the dark place that you had shut yourself in and pulled you back into the light. You told me you never believed in fate but some kind of divine intervention brought me to you. And with all that. With all
my work. You walked away. And it’s not that I believe that you owe me. But it’s that I believe that I was the setup. I was the girl you used to get back on top. The one you used to remember who you really were and that even without her there were still girls that wanted you. And so I became the hopeless victim that fell into your line of sight. Used. Abused. And left for dead. You didn’t have to lay a hand on me to rip me apart, no I’m doing that myself. You managed to rip me apart from the inside out and now I can’t even stand the sight of myself knowing I’ve been touched by you. I can’t even be alone with myself because all of these thoughts come rushing back about what we were supposed to be and how you fucking quit on us. Not me. You are the one that was so numb to your own emotions you could never admit that you loved me. And maybe you never did. I can’t decide which is worse. And I used to think it was impossible to hate and love somebody at the same time but you have made me all too aware that it is amazingly
possible. And now it comes to me like breathing. And as much as I want it to be me, if in the end it is not, I hope she makes you happy. I hope the girl that finally gets through your ironclad heart makes you happy. And I think that’s how I know I’ll always love you. Because your happiness will always come before mine. And if I must search for you in every other guy I meet then I will until I find somebody who bears your resemblance to the best of their ability without knowing it. And I’ll love them a little less than I loved you. And they won’t know that either. Because I don’t think I could ever bring myself to love another person as deeply as I loved you. And that is not because they are undeserving. No. But because I need to keep something for myself. I have to protect myself first. And I can never love somebody the way I loved you. So selflessly. So completely. And so I just hope she makes you as happy as you made me. I really do. I hope you let yourself dream about her, and I hope she dreams about you too. But selfishly, I hope her eyes remind you a little too much of mine when she tells you she loves you. I hope that when she says it the first time you realize you’ve seen that look before. Or something close to it. And I hope your mind races back to me. And I hope you know I loved you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *