What have you done to me?
At first I refused to share my heart, but you became the exception. You left your mark, your fingerprints when you caressed my poor heart. It pumped ferociously, more than ever before. My poor heart desired you and only you. I was wrapped around your finger. My heart ached as we grew apart. The days grew darker as my heart gave up. You have left me with an open wound. A wound that only you could fix.
Now you’re gone and you’ve left your permanent scar. My poor lonely heart; it only cried to be freed.
27 May 2017 ML
I dropped you from my life as if you weren’t a part of me. At least that’s how I think you saw things happen. You were wrong. I was impulsive and it will haunt my heart forever. I let you go because I thought what I felt was just an infatuation. This time I was the one that was wrong.
You say you’re not mad and that I didn’t hurt you? I guess I am hurting for two then. I cry knowing that you’re fine without me. You seem to put no effort. Aren’t you afraid I’ll stop trying too?
I let you go even though I knew you wanted me so badly. Now that I know I have lost the best part of me, my heart is heavy. I am not mad at you and I do not feel betrayed by you. I am just frustrated with myself for letting you go.
I let you go and now my tears have filled that missing part of me.
23 May 2017 ML
This has been happening more recently.
I lay in my bed thinking about us. Is there even an “us?” It is so incredibly difficult for me to read your mind. You’re not simple. But I still want you. I don’t know how to make you happy forever. I want to be able to wake up to cheesy things from you. What if you already love me? What is there to love? You’ve accepted every inch of my soul. My aching soul. But will it be enough for you?
Being with you takes my fear of the world away. I want you to tell me you want me. And I want you to mean it. I want to stop trying to read your thoughts and instead hear them directly from you. I want to feel so confident with you that my anxiety has no place in it. But I fear that the more I explain this, the less it makes sense and the more you push me away. I fear that you will give up on me soon. But you’ve given me so much time to better myself. I’ve given up on myself first.
Now I lay in bed. With thoughts of only you. You are my safe blanket. But what am I to you?
17 May 2017 ML