There is an inexplicable sadness reserved for
the melancholy moments when we accept that the
one we love does not love us back.

There is an inexplicable feeling we get when
all we are forced to drown in are the pools of
sorry's that are thrown at our ears, mercilessly.

There is an irrevocable pain we feel in the pit
of our stomachs, things we never thought we could
feel, worse than any physical pain, worse than the laps
we have ran around endless fields of thought in
our mind, when we hear the words whispered quietly
and under held breath, uttering
"You deserve better than this."

I do not. I do not want better than this. I deserve you
and everything you have to offer and everything you have
to give.

But resignation to the inevitable is something we all
must learn to do, just as the flowers learn how to bloom
even after the harsh winter storms.

Maybe I will be okay, I just need some time to bloom
into something beautiful once again.

Afterwards you looked
stricken. But you
held
me.
And we talked. Kind of.
Words don't always come so easily.
I told you about jealousy and you spoke of confusion.
Two people can make you feel. I believe that.
I asked what
who
made you happy.
I've been making you happy lately. Its like you had to force those words up. Something scared you and I know they're true but I'm still scared too.
You said it can't happen again and I stood for honesty
So you explained. "I said it can't happen. Not that it won't."