he broke me, he repaired me, he changed me.
i would do anything for him. he seemed like a responsibility. i needed to be there for him, i needed to be his shoulder to cry on,i needed to laugh with him to make myself feel better.
he changed and i didn't.
he intoxicates my mind like a drug i have never taken before. he charms me with his sweet voice and music. he can't be my shoulder to cry on, he can't talk me out of my sadness, he can't cheer me up on my bad days.
Sometimes, a certain line will take me back to when we were happy. i bet he can't identify where it's coming from.
our conversations are bland now. with blue ticks by each message showing that both of us don't care anymore. one of us is burdened with the thoughts and memories of the other, one of us can't give a ****

why does his presence linger in my poems and stories?
why does he become a reason for me to write?
why does he make me question my emotional state?