I’ve learned that happiness
cannot be found in the form of comforting words.
I’ve learned that the third time you told me you were sure
hurt me just as badly as the other two.
But I had to make certain.
I’ve learned that a part of me died that night
when you told me you wanted something else
and I held your hand one final time.
I’ve learned that love (at times) is hellish
and that Molotov cocktail of rejection and forsakenness
that came bursting from my heart
left a bloodstain on the love letter I would have given you.
I’ve learned that pain gives way to numbness
When the nerves inside your soul are severed.
I’ve learned that I miss you most in the mornings
when I awake to find you only love me in my dreams.
I’ve learned that I’m not worth the wait, the distance, or the pain.
I’ve learned that I’ll never truly get you off my mind.
Most importantly I’ve learned that happiness is often only real while unconscious.