i don't miss you.
i don't need you nor do i love you anymore.
but i still think about you. You managed to penetrate my thoughts every now and then.
and sometimes my eyes land on things that remind me of the nights we've had.
of the talks and kisses we've shared.
of the happiness that overcame me when i was with you.
of the tender touches and heavy breaths that were exchanged between out bodies.
of the looks that were given.
of the delicate smiles that were always plastered on your face.
of your mischievous smirks whenever you would say something inappropriate.
of your warm gentle eyes.
of our love.
of you.
simple things remind me of you
it's crazy how something that was once insignificant ans small, could mean so much to you simply because someone came and gave it meaning.

I don't love you anymore but you still haunt me.
There are so many things that remind me of you. You're just there, lingering in the background like a ghost, reminding me of what i have lost.

No matter how much i tried to hate you, I couldn’t.
I tried to forget you after we stopped talking because of her. I could have blocked you and get it over with.
No more broken heart.
No more pain, no more you either.
The thought of not having my heart broken was rummaging in my mind. It seemed like a great Idea, but the thought of no more you made me sick to my stomach. So I didn’t block you.

I thought that even if we did not talk, I was content with just seeing your name on my snap friends. Just when I thought were done, you texted me.
Believe me when I say my heart stopped when you said you think you still loved me. But I knew not to be a fool and believe you. Even if I want to, even if it is true, I can’t believe you.
If I believe you I’ll fall in a hole that I don’t think I’ll be able to climb up again. It hurts me not to be able to call you beautiful and I know that i will end up doing it because you are.
You are beautiful.
You are kind and adorable and everything in between but I can’t tell you. I had to make up a way for you to stop, or hate me at least so I told you I was talking to someone i liked. Which was not entirely true because he does like me but I ignore the **** out of him but I had to lie. I wanted you to hate me. But you didn’t. Instead you told me you were okay with it. How can I make you hate me after that? You didn’t seem upset so I saw no point in lying to you. So I told you the truth. That I think i'm a rebound.

And yeah maybe Im not but I don't believe that. For example, the first time you flirted with me after you started texting her was when you guys were on a break. I thought it was weird but I didn’t say anything because I’ll take you anyway I can have you. Then we stopped because you guys were planning on fixing things. Then the second time you texted me was when you and her decided to be friends. So how do you think that looks? It makes me feel like I was just there when you needed me. Just when you weren’t with her. I love you. I love you so much and even though I had a second chance, I didn't take it because I can’t do that to myself. So I just been dry in hopes of not slipping up and flirting with you. Like you once told me, “You are too late”. Even though i love you, you are too late . I realized maybe we just don’t ever belong to each other. We are meant to never be anything more than friends.

When I was younger, in my elementary years, I wished to be broken. I thought having a horrible past that changed me made me look cool. I thought people would see me as mysterious and intriguing.
Be careful what you wish for....
Being Broken is every sense of the word. Something that is broken can not be put together perfectly like the first time. I got my wish. I'm Broken and I can't go back to the careless child I was in elementary school. What I didn't know when i was younger about being broken was how exhausting it is.
I didn't know that broken had friends. I didn't know broken knew depression and anxiety. I didn't know they were all soulmates.
What I didn't know was that being broken would mean my mom hiding all the knives from my drunken father when they had an argument. That being broken would mean my dad trying to break down my bedroom's door while my mom was on the other side of it screaming at him to stop.
They said make lemonade out of lemons.
Take something sour and make it sweet.
But how am i suppose to make something sweet when the utensils to make it sweet are broken because they were utilized to break down my bedroom's door. They were utilized to make holes in my home. They were utilized to inflict pain.
Oh how I wish i can be put back together perfectly like the first time.

I wasn't a morning person before  I met you.
I hated the whole waking up at 6 in the morning for work.
The birds chirping sounded like alarms in my head and the sunlight was bothersome.
But when I met you, i found myself anticipating it.
I found myself anxiously waiting for the sun to lightly caress your ebony skin. I found myself anticipating the feeling that over comes my body every time I see you lying next to me.
I loved the way the morning made you look so peaceful and fragile. I loved how it showed me your vulnerable side.
I loved how your galactic eyes were covered by your long beautiful eyelashes.
The morning complimented you.
When I met you, I found myself loving the mornings.

You used to think I was jealous because I was a possessive person. You used to think I didn't want to share you; that the thought of another person touching you made my skin burn.
My jealousy did not come from possessiveness.
It came from insecurity. It came from the reality that I was giving you less than what you deserved.
You deserved the warmest hellos and the saddest goodbyes but I disregarded you like you weren't rare. You deserved all the attention that one can give. You deserved to be chased even when you were already caught. You deserved tender lips and ultimate worship. You deserved fragile care.
I didn't give you that.
I gave you cold shoulders and reckless caring. I gave you little to no nurturing and I will forever hate myself for it.
I was jealous because I knew someone else could have offered you better. I was jealous because I knew someone could offer you love.
I was jealous because I was scared you would realize.
You were too naive to admit it.