At one point in our relationship, I thought you were my rock.
I thought you were the person who kept me steady.
The person who kept me grounded.
The person I could confide in.
The person that supported me through everything.
The person who was there for me when times got hard.


Reflecting back on it now, you were still my rock, but with a different meaning.


You were the rock that weighed me down.
The rock that made times harder.
The rock that used me as its own personal crutch.
The rock that held me back from being happy.
The rock that used my insecurities against me.


I fell under the weight of my rock. Unable to wiggle my way out from underneath for far too long.


I hope whoever is reading this doesn't make the same mistake.

<>

No, He said.

I want you
wanting.

I want to taste the miracle of your desperation,
need,
lick the sweet sweat of tense from the hairline well hid
on the back of your pleasuring neck.

I need your needing constant completion,
but not succeeding.

The airborne aroma of your desires are fiery, arousing,
stimulus sensating me by the unending beauty of dissatisfaction,
this virus desirous, infection, makes my perpetual wanting  
for an incomplete perfect woman,
forever seeking betterment,
perfectly complete.

<>

I hope your stomach hurts when someone mentions my name.

Just like mine did

I hope you can't sleep at night; having the thoughts of losing me consume you.

Just like it did for me

I hope you choose not to go out some nights in the fear of running into me and end up missing out on fun nights with friends.

Just like I did

I hope you wake up in the middle of the night crying because you dreamt of me.

Just like I did

Maybe it's selfish, even petty, of me to wish these things upon you. But knowing that you will hurt even an ounce as much as I did gives me some sort of weird comfort. Comfort in the fact that I know I wasn't the only one broken from this relationship.

But my true comfort comes in the form of acceptance. Acceptance of what happened; realizing that I am now stronger and finally over you. Acceptance that you were simply a road block in my life; a road block that took me a year to get over.