Please don’t come with your cautious, doubtful, and reserved heart asking me questions to see if I’m able to pass your incredibly difficult tests.
Your constants and vague “maybe” no longer interest me. And I even gave up hoping that this “someday” would finally come. You’ve been talking about it for years, but I’m still waiting.
Please don’t tell me you have to “think about it” any longer.
I no longer want this expectation and these questions. I no longer want to focus on “what could be”.
I’ve had enough and I’m frustrated. And my fractured rib cage reluctantly shuts its storm-battered doors.
But first, tell me why do you come to me with hands half full of promise and half full of disdain?
You tell me that you think you love me, in a calm tone – a voice filled with overwhelming reservations, momentary desires, and superficial expectations. Your shield is still active and you are always on your guard.
So, I ask you to take your indecisive love and go kindly (and resolutely).
We both know that if you stay I’ll always be weak and stuck in your finely spun web. I will always implore the words I want to hear, the ones you will never say to me.
I would sincerely like you to show me your vulnerability, that you open up. I waited patiently, and believed in it for years, to no avail.
But I also know that my unrealistic expectations make me struggle and suffer. And yes, I realize that it is my hurt, beaten, fractured, messy, loving heart that keeps me with you too long.
You have been a lesson for me, essential but atrocious. You were a sharp stick that grew relentlessly and cruelly, opening up scars, forcing them to bleed so that they were a little more painful.
And I needed you.
I won’t beg you to come back. I won’t waste time trying to convince you of what you already know deep down in your being.
I’ve given enough already, stupidly watching history repeat itself as you ignored me, rejected me, and left me to meet your ever-changing needs.
I won’t fight the carnage just for you to let me love you. And I won’t fight to force you to show that nothing matters to you.
Because in your eyes, making an effort is not synonymous with love. You think it’s crazy that someone continues to love, even if they aren’t loved the same way in return.
But for me, it was real, rare, and unique.
And now the silent and inevitable end has come.
I’ve always been terrified of letting you go, because I know this unforgettable love won’t fade, but it’s even harder to stay.
I might never fill that void, but you feel so much more void when love feels more like war. I thought the worst thing in life was to end up alone. But in reality no. The worst part in life is ending up with someone who makes us feel like we are alone.
