Why was I not good enough? I loved you so hard, and yet, it still wasn’t enough. Shit was hard most of the time. But I thought that’s the way it was suppose to be.
I thought we were suppose to fight for us until things got better.
I begged you not to leave. So many times you gave up on me, and I got down on my knees as if I was begging for my life. In my mind, I was because YOU were my life.
You had my heart in your hands. When you gave it back, I couldn’t take it. So I watched it on the ground where you left it.
How would I recover?
At this point, open heart surgery would be easier to recover from than you leaving. But I left first, right? No. Every night I was alone for so long.
Wondering how long I would have to endure this before you finally said “okay. I want to love you again.”
So I waited.
Missing someone who was in the next room.
Then, the final straw, something that I couldn’t ignore. I was tired. I knew it would’ve just been another empty conversation.
So, I left.
But only to get your attention. Only because I thought you’d realize life without me wouldn’t be what you wanted.
It was exactly what you wanted. It’s what you wanted all along but couldn’t tell me.
So now, here I am. Laying next to someone else wondering when he will leave, too. Wondering if I’m messing up with him like I did with you.
Was it one thing you just couldn’t take anymore, or was it everything about me?
Such a fucked up metaphor every time I see “forever” & Roman numeral wedding date on my rib, the rib that God took from Adam and put into Eve to symbolize ONE.
I remember how painful the tattoo was, but It doesn’t compare to the pain I experience everyday when I see it in the mirror. Fading. Just like your love for me did.