Going through and through and through our reckoning

I started to imagine we would have the most incredible, last night together. You moving out next Wednesday and our future over since last Thursday. In our fickle, forever relationship, I pictured one, last fun, full of conversation night. I clung to, even the thought of, one last night tripping with you. 

Oh, but you tore me apart. Punched me in my stomach a few times these past two weekends. I don’t know if I can ever forget what you did.

I’m well aware, I’m the one who broke up with you, via text, lest I forget. I’m the one who told you verbatim: I can’t speak to you; can’t be with you; can’t see you.

Those words were cumulations of so much pain, so much pain that I couldn’t handle alone anymore. I was/am in such a dark place that I needed the distance, to take care of myself and to not take you there too.

And you never, not even once asked that we stay together. Instead whenever I feebly attempted to talk about it, you always said: whatever you want.

Whatever I want, means you made a choice. A choice to let me choose.

I love you beyond words, any words that I could perfectly piece together and write to you. But neither you, or I, should be going through this misery.

Miss Mess


About iheartmess

Dear Girls (and Boys!), Boys will hurt you, a lot of them. You'll feel like your heart is breaking at age 12, at 16, and then properly at 21 and then really at 26. When it breaks again before you are 30, that will be the real one, wait for it, every single one is everything, and nothing. It’s all great and terrible, it’s all worth it...
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