Nov 2013
The love songs playing on the radio, and
the poems from one sweetheart to another
Make me increasingly aware that I am alone.
It's not all bad.
I'm just more aware.
Aware of my singularity.
Emily and Lover
Is now just
Emily-
"Take this time to work on you," my well-meaning friends order.
But what does that mean?
I'm a person, not a machine.
I can't install a new heart because the one I have now is faulty.
I can't make my brain
Stop-
Thinking thoughts of him.
I don't get to turn myself off for awhile
Or press the reset button.
So I immerse myself in new things,
Things he knows nothing of
So he has less of a chance of creeping into my fragile mind.
I refer to him as "he"
Instead of "you"
Because this poem can't be for him.
I look for ways to distance myself from situations where I'm
vulnerable
Because I'm still reeling at the fact that I can feel this much pain.
Even though it hits me less often,
Those fleeting intervals leave me gasping for air.
Just like he left me on that doorstep those many months ago.
I still cry sometimes.
Though I tell everyone I'm fine
Because although they don't admit it, they are as tired of hearing about him
As I am of crying over him.
Nobody should make me feel this way.
I am a strong person
Made confusingly weak by this boy who doesn't even understand what love is.
While I loved,
He said words he thought I wanted to hear.
He lusted and mistook it for romance.
The sweet, caring gestures missing from the relationship I romanticized
Because I didn't want to argue
I made excuses over and over
For this kid who just didn't get it.
I'm feeling so much pain.
Not because he hurt me, but because I put him on a
pedestal.
In my mind I erased his flaws.
I pretended his words didn't hurt
And that his keeping me hidden didn't matter.
So now that he's gone it's like I'm living all that pain
For the first time.
I'm only now letting myself admit that I wasn't the only
flawed one in the relationship.
And it's okay that I'm not over him,
Those things take time.
As long as I realize that I wasn't the only one in the wrong,
That's progress.
the poems from one sweetheart to another
Make me increasingly aware that I am alone.
It's not all bad.
I'm just more aware.
Aware of my singularity.
Emily and Lover
Is now just
Emily-
"Take this time to work on you," my well-meaning friends order.
But what does that mean?
I'm a person, not a machine.
I can't install a new heart because the one I have now is faulty.
I can't make my brain
Stop-
Thinking thoughts of him.
I don't get to turn myself off for awhile
Or press the reset button.
So I immerse myself in new things,
Things he knows nothing of
So he has less of a chance of creeping into my fragile mind.
I refer to him as "he"
Instead of "you"
Because this poem can't be for him.
I look for ways to distance myself from situations where I'm
vulnerable
Because I'm still reeling at the fact that I can feel this much pain.
Even though it hits me less often,
Those fleeting intervals leave me gasping for air.
Just like he left me on that doorstep those many months ago.
I still cry sometimes.
Though I tell everyone I'm fine
Because although they don't admit it, they are as tired of hearing about him
As I am of crying over him.
Nobody should make me feel this way.
I am a strong person
Made confusingly weak by this boy who doesn't even understand what love is.
While I loved,
He said words he thought I wanted to hear.
He lusted and mistook it for romance.
The sweet, caring gestures missing from the relationship I romanticized
Because I didn't want to argue
I made excuses over and over
For this kid who just didn't get it.
I'm feeling so much pain.
Not because he hurt me, but because I put him on a
pedestal.
In my mind I erased his flaws.
I pretended his words didn't hurt
And that his keeping me hidden didn't matter.
So now that he's gone it's like I'm living all that pain
For the first time.
I'm only now letting myself admit that I wasn't the only
flawed one in the relationship.
And it's okay that I'm not over him,
Those things take time.
As long as I realize that I wasn't the only one in the wrong,
That's progress.
