He needed an excuse to leave and even though I was daddy's little girl, he had to blame someone. So at 13 I was his reason, at 13 my first love left me saying he wasn't happy anymore and with him he took a piece of my heart that no boy can ever replace.
What was left but a bottomless pit of anguish that I've been trying tirelessly to fill with shoddy choices, self destruction and drugs. I've spent a lot of time playing pretend, building up the walls that he tore down the day he left. Dwelling inside a beige fantasy, where I don't let anyone in or out.
This way I figure, no one can wreak havoc on my patched together heart that I call home, with boarded up windows and doors. but it's not home here, it's not happy.
It's such a cold, dark place lit only by a tiny amber glow in the fireplace that's burning on the old memories of my childhood, from before he walked away and broke my heart.