Aug 2015
I stared at the thick gold band of the bracelet he’d clipped onto my wrist, and it angered me.
I was furious at the fact that I couldn’t take it off, couldn’t find the strength to break a promise even when he had – countless times.
Instead of stroking my heart with the soft delicate hands of love, and feeding my soul the light and euphoria that comes from loving another, tears began to form in my eyes.
They bubbled up, filled to the brim and remained there; refusing to fall, refusing to disappear and yet they remained.
They swam in the uncertainty, the pain, the sorrow, the heartache.
And blurred my vision, hindering my sight.
As the tears spilled over and traveled down my cheeks, I knew that being in love wasn’t meant to feel this way.
That instead of crying and wiping away the tears and trying to cover up the pink tint around my eyes, I should have been in his arms.
I should have felt secure, safe, loved.
I should have been calm and assured because in a relationship common courtesy applies to the other.
I should not have been worrying about where he was or if he was okay.
I shouldn’t have wondered if he was coming home, I shouldn’t have been afraid of him blatantly lying to my face, repeatedly – but I was.
He could never text and tell me that he was fine, tell me where he was or when I could expect him home.
He could never pause for a second and consider my feelings, my emotions or my concerns.
He could never call just to say “I miss your voice”
He could make empty promises and trick me into promising the world.
They would lay in his eyes, bright and enticing screaming at me that this time it was real.
He could lift my hand to his lips and place kisses on my wrist, the knuckles and the spaces in between, and proceed to look into my eyes and tell me that I meant the world to him, that there was nothing more important, that he needed me.
I would melt, all of my anger, my frustration, my distrust, my thoughts would melt away when his eyes met mine and he said “baby, I love you”
Each time, he would look into my brown eyes and promise that this time, this time would be different.
He promised the stars but never mentioned that I’d get burned reaching for them.
He promised the ocean but never mentioned the icy cold waters I would drown in searching for his love in the waves.
He promised the light to put an end to the darkness Id been forced to live in but never told me that the bulb would blind me and then fuse.
He swore that he would give his life for mine but never mentioned that I’d have to sacrifice my soul to redeem it.
He swore that he loved me but never told me what he was swearing on.
He made promises to tell the truth, but never mentioned that I would be the only honest one.
He made me love him, but never warned me that he would leave with it and render me incapable of loving again.
So I unclipped the bracelet, watching it fall from my wrist and land on the bed.
I picked it up and put it on my bedside table.
Breaking the first promise in the thousands I had made.
I was furious at the fact that I couldn’t take it off, couldn’t find the strength to break a promise even when he had – countless times.
Instead of stroking my heart with the soft delicate hands of love, and feeding my soul the light and euphoria that comes from loving another, tears began to form in my eyes.
They bubbled up, filled to the brim and remained there; refusing to fall, refusing to disappear and yet they remained.
They swam in the uncertainty, the pain, the sorrow, the heartache.
And blurred my vision, hindering my sight.
As the tears spilled over and traveled down my cheeks, I knew that being in love wasn’t meant to feel this way.
That instead of crying and wiping away the tears and trying to cover up the pink tint around my eyes, I should have been in his arms.
I should have felt secure, safe, loved.
I should have been calm and assured because in a relationship common courtesy applies to the other.
I should not have been worrying about where he was or if he was okay.
I shouldn’t have wondered if he was coming home, I shouldn’t have been afraid of him blatantly lying to my face, repeatedly – but I was.
He could never text and tell me that he was fine, tell me where he was or when I could expect him home.
He could never pause for a second and consider my feelings, my emotions or my concerns.
He could never call just to say “I miss your voice”
He could make empty promises and trick me into promising the world.
They would lay in his eyes, bright and enticing screaming at me that this time it was real.
He could lift my hand to his lips and place kisses on my wrist, the knuckles and the spaces in between, and proceed to look into my eyes and tell me that I meant the world to him, that there was nothing more important, that he needed me.
I would melt, all of my anger, my frustration, my distrust, my thoughts would melt away when his eyes met mine and he said “baby, I love you”
Each time, he would look into my brown eyes and promise that this time, this time would be different.
He promised the stars but never mentioned that I’d get burned reaching for them.
He promised the ocean but never mentioned the icy cold waters I would drown in searching for his love in the waves.
He promised the light to put an end to the darkness Id been forced to live in but never told me that the bulb would blind me and then fuse.
He swore that he would give his life for mine but never mentioned that I’d have to sacrifice my soul to redeem it.
He swore that he loved me but never told me what he was swearing on.
He made promises to tell the truth, but never mentioned that I would be the only honest one.
He made me love him, but never warned me that he would leave with it and render me incapable of loving again.
So I unclipped the bracelet, watching it fall from my wrist and land on the bed.
I picked it up and put it on my bedside table.
Breaking the first promise in the thousands I had made.
