i vaguely remember the summer nights,
the relationships we had just left behind.
nothing i expressed turned into a fight,
i finally thought my life would be alright.
i was 18, you were 26,
i never knew that it would end like this.
we really were perfect, even to this day we never really argued.
you were homeless, and your life was a mess, we both brought each other hope and joy, but i realize that it wasn't enough.
you found a home, a new bed, a new path.
i went from being five minutes away to twenty five, and you never stopped by again.
my mom never liked you, she always thought i could do better.
you said you would provide, look after me, support me, but you only ever distracted me.
i gave you so much of my time, energy, effort, love, i forgot to save any for myself.
that's not your fault, it's my own, i should have known older men knew how to make me feel guilty even when they were being so sweet, alluring, and wise.
you always knew what to say, but you never knew what to do,
and for that, i could never bring myself to your doorway again.
school became optional, i became depressed, unguided, angry, disappointed. i lost myself in you, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
for the 487 days i spent with you, every second, every minute, every single moment was loving, peaceful, exciting, and refreshing.
but for each day, i lost a little bit of myself into wanting the best for someone who wanted to own me.
i'm still young, i'm starting my twenties and you're almost starting your thirties.
it's selfish to want someone to struggle with you,
so for the last day you ever came to my door to pick me up, bring me flowers, take me out on a date, and make sure i got home safe,
i thank you for letting me see that although you wanted to see me,
you wanted what was convenient, not what was real.
that was 103 days ago, and today is day one of starting something new for myself. thank you.