began with you
Updated July 2019

I began with you. I think it over. Nights that pass when we no longer sleep together. We lay next to each other as your body carries you away. Repeatedly, I watch you. I pack up my things because we have no home in together. Buddies are what we feel like. Will romance ever have a chance to live? I hope for one day a change that aligns up with this love you claim. I look at you to tell you I love you, your gaze at me is one of disdain. Yet even in that, I hang hopelessly in said love. Will you change for me too? I am numb.

I began with you. I moved here for a love that we fantasied of, but did not put your hands to. I feel like a punching bag, getting each blow from previous relationships that have scorned you. Once done, the vibe shifts into this strange charge that illuminates the disconnect, the lack of between us. It takes time, you say. But when I wait to see an action from your heart, nothing.
I began with you but ended up with me. It is almost as if you were hoping time does the convincing for you. What if time gave us the love we needed? There would be no need for companionship. While you say there is no one else on your radar, we know better. Someone motivated by love would do all they could to keep it together. Keep it real. Mom always taught me love is an action word designed by God to reveal. But I wait. Wondering what I did to deserve this type of bait that hooked me so easily. The kind of ship that only one person is present in. My heart is drained; will it heal? I’m not so sure I believe in love anymore.
Used all up, I began with you. I pray for you, more than I pray for myself. I just hope I’m strong enough to survive when the real reason you’ve been withdrawn reveals itself. I’ve been nothing but transparent, wishing your listening is matched with fresh new choices to pick up your end of this space. Otherwise, my life has been ruined, and this time again, a waste.
I begin with me.