I thought it was supposed to be easy,
letting you go instead of holding onto you.

I went for a walk yesterday,
for some reason I ended up at our spot.
I spent some time on the same bench we used to share our secrets, kiss, fight, listen to songs, sit silently.
I couldn't think of anything but our last date,
I remember everything we talked about that day,
what color clothes you were wearing,
how your hair looked, your smile,
The way you were looking at me,
the way we kissed,
the way you complimented me uncountable times,
the way we hugged,
the way we held hands, my cold hands warming up inside your cold hands until they sweat,
the way you told me you about your feelings towards me.
Something was missing that day though.
I didn't feel anything when we kissed. I kissed with my eyes open.
Was it love, that was missing ?
But I thought to myself, i loved him, how could love be missing then ?
But love was indeed missing, it couldn't be seen, i looked for it.
Trust me I did.
He did love someone but that someone wasn't me.
How is it possible that something so perfect to me was just a lie for him ?
I'm hurt, I'm bitter about us and i blame you.
I'm never going to trust anybody easily, I'm going to have shared time loving a new person and i blame you.
I blame you for the way you made me.
And i blame myself for letting you do that.

I wish I knew this is how it was gonna end.
I still remember when you said I was too unpredictable
And I ignored it thinking you didn't mean it but deep down I knew exactly how you meant it.
I did all those things so that I could keep you.  
But nothing was enough for you, or was it me who wasn't enough for you ?
The more I tried to bring you closer to me the farther you went away.
And you blamed me saying I push people away.

This time it's different
I told my besfriend.
He replied,
He doesn't talk about you, the way you do about him.

That feeling of fear that no nobody is ever gonna love me because I messed up stuff is killing me
My anxiety is killing me
I can't think, eat or sleep.
I hate the way I look
My mom blames herself
And I hate that even more
She is not to be blamed
She is not at fault, I am.

Maybe it's your nose,
or the shape of your eyes,
or the way you smile.

I so sweetly point out the things I hate about my body every day and night.
My mother bought me a pretty yellow floral dress yesterday, I said "nothing looks pretty on me", it made my mother so sad.
I was too busy finding things in my body that need changes.
The feeling when I look at myself in the mirror and wanting to scream is unexplainable and it hurts. It hurts my mother when I tell her I don't like the way I look. It hurt as much as it hurts to feel