“Despite whatever happens between us just know you did nothing wrong. The only thing you did was be dedicated, and loving which is what makes you amazing.”
Why don’t you shoot me in the fucking
face because that would have been way
less painful than hearing the person you
love tell you that they love their freedom
more than you. That they would rather
not have to be bothered with considering
someone else’s feelings, thoughts, opinions
whenever they feel like doing anything.
That being able to do whatever you want
is better than being with the person you
“love so much”.
I really thought I had a good thing. I really
thought I found someone good, who loves me,
and cares about me, and gives a fuck. Not
proving me right, that everyone leaves,
that good people don’t exist, that I’m
not meant to be happy.
What makes me sick is how much of the
day I spend thinking about you, while you
can go about your day and not even reach out.
Knowing that you probably couldn’t care less if
you don’t hear from me all day, that you couldn’t
care less that I sit here crying, loving you knowing
it’s probably pathetic, and I probably sound like a
Where I know if I don’t call you, you wouldn’t
even notice that 6 hours have gone since the last
time you heard my voice. But you can follow my
social media to see what I’m doing, to see a glimpse
in how my days are going without you.
Let me make this easy for you. My life is hell,
because all I’ve done is love you. I did everything
and anything I can possibly think of to make us work.
That I gave this relationship 150% effort and
commitment and you can barely give me the time of day.
But that’s how love is supposed to feel right?
It’s supposed to make you feel like you’re better
off dead right? Or have I been handed the short
end of the stick this entire fucking time?
I grip the tequila bottle to help with the bleeding,
because it’s the only thing that I can depend on
that will keep me from drowning in the pain that
suffocates me. I drink and drink until the bottle
becomes emptier than me.
When it’s dark at night and the nightmares choke
my mind until I wake up screaming, my body
unconsciously rolls over looking for yours because
she doesn’t realize that you’re gone and why I
can’t sleep next to your side of the bed anymore.
That i have to sleep on the edge of my king
sized bed, curled into a ball and cry because
there’s no one there. That your fingers won’t
graze my skin, run over the curves of my body,
kiss my collarbone, bury your face in my shoulder
and tell me all the sweet things that my mind believed.
She doesn’t understand, but I do.
My mind knows there’s a 99.99% chance
it’s over but my
heart still clings to the .001% chance that
this was all just some simple misunderstanding,
that you didn’t mean it, that you’ll come back,
that you’ll crawl into my bed and run your fingers through
my hair, telling me how much you love me,
that you’ll remember the future we planned, the life we envisioned,
the dog, the kids, and the wrap around porch, the big back yard,
that you’ll remember how much I meant to you,
that you’ll see me the way i’m supposed to be seen, that
you’ll hold the way that I’m supposed to be held, that
you’ll love me the way I’m supposed to be loved, that
you’ll treat me the way I’m supposed to be treated. and
until the sun dies out
because if you give me a match,
I’ll give you a forest fire because
I don’t know how to love small.