’ve seen way too much and wore my heart on my sleeve way too often to forget what it’s like to feel so fragile and impermanent. i’ve built cities from the depths of broken hearts only to watch as they burst into scintillating luster but i’m only human and humans try until they bleed or until life robs them of strength. i’m tired and my eyes are weak from the burning desire to see beyond the concrete truths. This is all that it’ll ever be, between you and i, me and the next, just like how it’s been with everyone else. i am that comfort, that change, that temporary escape; a distraction. i’ve accepted that a long time ago so I stopped hoping for things to be different. i’ll help you and i’ll hold your hands but when my time is up, i’ll be on my way again and i’m supposed to believe that it’s okay.
… this is how easy it is: i stopped, for the life out of me, thinking about you. even if it was hard. i stopped. little by little. shedding each piece of what you have shared with me, of what i shared with you.
there are far better things ahead than things we leave behind..
do me a favor and do the same: just stop.
That is the saddest part when you lose someone you love – that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost? Maybe you lost more maybe less, then thousand different things that come from your memory or imagination – and you do not know which is which, which was true, which is false.
~ “The Kitchen God’s Wife,” by Amy Tan
Honestly and without excuses,
How many times have you said you were done?
How many times have you threatened to leave me?
How many times have you liked other people?
How many times have you intentionally hurt me to get my attention?
How many times have you played the victim?
How many times have you treated me in ways I didn’t deserve?
How many times have you called me nasty names to yourself?
How many times have you tested me?
How many times have you used “comfort” as an excuse to be with other people?
How many times have you categorized me with dumb fucks?
How many times have you fought me like I am the enemy?
How many times have you punished me for something I didn’t do?
How many times have you used a “relationship” to hold above my head?
How many times have I?