Like a tsunami, you came in and engulfed me
into what I thought was love.
Only it was not love at all.
Instead, it was a natural disaster.
Unruly, aversive, and destructive.
Oh, the endless possibilities
that once hindered me,
no longer seem to be.

Once the wounds had been inflicted, like deep lacerations
into innocent flesh,
I knew the picture that was once depicted
of you and I
hand in hand, side by side,
no longer existed.
You caused the pain, the deceit of broken promises,
and comforting lies.
You watched me bleed out, completely.
Incessantly, I still reached out
wanting more
than you were able to give.

You left my heart punctured, bruised, and battered
And have the nerve to ask me,
“what’s the matter?”
as if you weren’t the one
who caused it to shatter.
Still, I had hope.
Hope that our bond would grow stronger, not realizing that we just couldn’t afford to hold on
any longer.
I was the one hurting,
suffering.
While you clung to the title of victim
as if it were your life jacket,
keeping you safe and afloat
during the turmoil that was the storm.
All the while I was drowning in the agony and misery,
of the demise of you and I.

Perhaps, she is everything I never was,
but thought I could’ve been.
Just like you never were what I had imagined you to be.
Maybe the storm was created, to make us  
better people.
Maybe it was designed to prepare us for
future lovers.
Evidently, we weren’t meant to be.

Maybe we were just destined to love one another,
from afar. Across different oceans.  
Thinking of it that way makes it hurt a bit less.
And blurs the “what ifs” & the “could be’s”.