The Worst.

Losing you hurt like hell. It still hurts. I felt like I lost myself, and the more I thought about it, the more I found that it was true.   

I loved you so hard and so much. I loved you with everything my heart and my body and my soul had to offer.  
After you broke me and the damage had been done, I realized I didn’t recognize any of the broken pieces of myself scattered on the floor.
I wasn’t this girl. I wasn’t the girl who cried herself to sleep, the girl who called a guy hoping he would pick up, the girl who was okay with being an option, and I sure as hell wasn’t the girl who waited around for a guy to make up his mind. Yet, here I was. 
There’s so many times that I would tear myself to pieces, analyzing every conversation, wondering what I could have done differently.  
I did this to myself for months, knowing that you weren’t losing any sleep over any of it. I found myself putting on your t-shirts, because even just the smallest piece of you brought me comfort.   
It didn’t exactly happen overnight, but I just remember waking up one morning and thinking why am I letting him do this to me?  
That was the day I realized how much of myself I had given up, and how much I had changed to fit what your idea of perfect was. 
I started to do the things I loved again, never even realizing that I had given them up in the first place.  
I started going out with my friends, going outdoors, and experiencing everything and anything I could. I listened to the music that I loved but you always hated. I drove with the windows down, and sang my heart out, realizing that I could get through this.  

Slowly but surely, I began to recognize myself. What was even more beautiful about it, was that this new me was an even better me than before you. 
I found that my heart began to no longer skip a beat when my phone went off, hoping it was you.  
I stopped caring about what you would post on social media. I stopped caring about what you had to say to me, altogether. And how empowered I felt, when I found myself packing up your things in a box and sending them back to you because I didn’t need them anymore.
Honestly after everything you put me through, and after this roller coaster of emotions, it really is you that I feel sorry for.  
You really missed out; I could have given you everything. I don’t feel sorry for me anymore because I know that you couldn’t give me what I needed, and I deserve every ounce of love and effort that I give. 
There are times when I replay memories of us in my mind and I find myself smiling and I start to miss you.  
I’m grateful for that because I will always look back on things I shared with you and have no regrets. I loved you, and although things didn’t work out like I hoped they would have, you were still the first person I ever opened myself up to.
One day I will find someone who does that for me in return. 
Maybe it will be then, that you realize you are ready to love me. But how sad it will be for you, to see that I found someone who was ready from the beginning. 


The Afters.

I been feeling nothing. Everything I do and everywhere I go, I feel nothing. There’s a hole somewhere in my body and it won’t fill. Out of the blue he texts me, “why is it so hard for you to fight for what you want”. Any decent, intelligent living creature would think okay, he wants me to fight for him. So thinking nothing of it, I texted him back. “Say this to me when I get there”. No response. So I get up , dress and find myself half panting, sweating at his front door. I knocked. I asked was he there and I was let in. I walk around the corner and there he is. Before I am able to speak, he tells me to get out. I mutter to him, you told me to fight, I told you I was coming. “But I didn’t say come, get out, I’m not trying to be rude”. So I turned around and walked peacefully out of his life. I won’t fight anymore. I won’t desire anymore. I won’t. He isn’t my heaven. He isn’t my boyfriend. He isn’t my husband. He isn’t my friend. He’s not my enemy. Love doesn’t live there anymore…and I don’t think I want to love anymore.