As I sit and spread out what you spoke for the hundredth time,
I realize that I was not ready for this
For a once-off fling
And it's not the *** that ******* me over, It's all the days spent laughing and listening to your stories, Doing broke things and having unplanned sleep overs, Watching movies while you play with my hair, Having morning smokes and coffee while people-watching on the veranda.
I invested so much time And effort And I cared, I still do
I've become used to you.
And I had hope That you would eventually see me in the same light as I you, That you would notice me in the way I notice every interesting detail about you.
But you wanted a fling And I agreed.
And now I'm sad Because I will probably wait for you to be ready Knowing the time will never come.
And I cannot begin to fathom the ache I'll have when I have to see you with someone else, someone more interesting, More open to new things.
And I'm angry that I told myself that, maybe just this once, I should open myself up And try to put myself out there despite the fear of getting hurt.
I am not ready to let you go, But I need to protect myself And I will mourn this loss