Everyday since we ended things,
I wake up with this ****** feeling.
Like a piece of me is missing.
I feel my heart throb,
Not in the good way like it used to,
But in a bad way.
Like someone grabbed it and unapologetically forced a knife through it,
From one side to the other.
So far the pain has never gone away.
It's like a dark cloud that follows me around.
Sometimes it fades,
But I always feel it,
I don't even have to look up to know it's there.
This kind of pain is new to me.
You were my first relationship.
You were my first date, my first kiss, and almost my first ****.
I say **** because towards the end that's all I was to you,
An emotionless ****.
That's what hurts the most.
I opened up to you.
You got to see me in a way no one has.
I shared my body, my thoughts, and my emotions with you.
But you didn't value them.
You didn't value me.
And I felt it.
I felt the switch.
So I asked you about it,
I asked if things had changed,
And you lied to me.
You blamed me,
And said, "That's just your own insecurity speaking".
Because I was naive,
I believed you.
How could things have changed so quickly?
You fought for me.
Hard.
Even when I was a ***** to you,
Even when all we did was argue,
Even when I told you we didn't have a future,
You weren't phased.
Because you were fighting for us,
I started fighting too.
Slowly at first,
But then for real.
And when I was finally all in,
I was alone,
Fighting for something you had given up on without even telling me.
You showed me love.
You showed me that it exists,
But you also showed me heartbreak.
Now I don't know how to feel about you.
The knight in the beginning doesn't match the ******* at the end.
And I'm left to wonder whether any of it was real,
Or whether it was all fake.
But I know the answer,
Because I felt it.
I felt it in the way you held me,
The way you kissed me,
And the words you said.
How your touch went from soft and tender,
To hungry and aggressive.
How our conversations changed from deep and patient,
To superficial and abrupt.
I can never hate you because when it was real,
It was beautiful.
A beauty I never knew to be true.
The closest thing to perfection I have ever seen or felt.
So perfect that even just the memories give me butterflies.
Perfection like that should never be tarnished.
Ever.
No matter what.
When you gave me your love,
I wasn't entirely ready to accept it.
I needed more time.
When I finally was,
It was too late.
It was gone.
While that hurts,
What hurts even more is that I kept chasing it,
Making excuses for every wrong thing you did to me,
Cutting myself deeper and deeper,
Spilling myself out to you more and more,
Believing it would come back or that it never left,
Because every time I asked you whether things had changed,
You told me they hadn't.
I was only ever honest with you.
Trust me that wasn't easy,
But I did it because I never wanted you to get hurt.
I guess I should be happy,
Because you aren't.
I guess part of me is.
But then again, I'm not.
I didn't protect myself the way I protected you.
Now here I am,
Broken,
Writing the first poem of my life,
Because three months ago,
You told me that writing poetry helped you work through your emotions.
I hate that even after all the pain,
I still value your opinion enough to try it.
I hate even more,
That you were right.