i should have left you the moment i saw you smile.
or, that’s what i tell myself. i tell myself that your smile wasn’t the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, but the opposite. it was the thing that ruined my life. the thing that took my happiness, pulled it from its core, and never gave it back. the thing that destroyed my heart in every way.
am i being too dramatic? sorry.
in all honesty, i did this to myself. i let you in, showed you where my happiness hid, told you what scared me, allowed your lips to wander my skin and show me love that you never really felt for me. maybe you were in love with the idea of me; the idea of loving someone so imperfect. maybe you love trying to fix people, but i was too far gone, wasn’t i? so you decided it wasn’t worth it - scratch that, i wasn’t worth it.
you were so unexpected, but i thought you were so right. i thought we were supposed to have that one love story where you come into the sad part of my life just to show me what real happiness was like. to show me what it felt like to really smile about something, to show me how it felt to brush my lips against someone else’s. to feel my heart speed up at the sound of someone else’s laugh.
i hope i put on a good enough show for you.
but the thing is, it wasn’t a show for me. i refrained from allowing myself to love you because life had been cruel to me before, and i wondered, how was life going to dig its talons into my skin this time? except after a few months, i gave myself to you. i gently slid my heart into your hands, begged you to keep it safe, and trusted you with my last breath. you looked at me with your ocean eyes, a smile on your face, and you promised.
that’s the most fucked up thing. you promised you would keep it safely tucked away, next to your own heart. somehow, you managed to keep yours safe while simultaneously shattering mine. what you gave back to me at the end of the day was something that resembled a puzzle piece. it was missing its parts to become whole, and you told me you lost them. and you were sorry.
you weren’t really sorry, were you? instead, you kept my pieces hidden with you, somewhere i was never really allowed. and now you have me completely blocked out, except you’re still carrying those pieces of me with you, everywhere you go.
what i’m trying to say, is that i’m not sorry we ended, i’m sorry that you had to destroy me in the process. and i wish i could take myself back from you.
— 8:44 pm thoughts / a letter to my ex