When I last addressed you,
I considered you a former friend,
And after much consideration,
And re-evaluation,
I’m putting this debate to an end.
You were not my friend,
You never were,
Despite what I said,
And what I believed,
You never cared for me.
I was just an ear,
That you used for many years,
Oh, you caused me many fears,
Deprived me of cheer.
Friends don’t do what you did,
So I’ll say again,
You were not my friend,
And you never were.

Dear Amelia,
How have you been? I know it’s out of the blue and even more likely you won’t read this letter. But I must get some things off my chest. I have tried so many things to alleviate the pain reigning over me but all to no avail. It’s okay, I’m just trying to let you know I miss you. I have no expectations of you coming back to me, but I’d just like to say that you’re still the one consuming my days and nights and every drink I pour has been in an attempt to not think of you, if only for a minute. Maybe someday I will stop thinking of you.

Perhaps someday we’ll learn how to live our lives without fear of falling apart the mere touch of another human being. Maybe someday we’ll let someone special into our hearts, see the ugly parts we hide from everyone else. Until then, I’ll keep you deep within my heart. The boldest I’d ever been in my life was when I tore myself open right in front of you. Magically, you didn’t run away. You took good care of me and years later, when you finally revealed the broken pieces lodged deep within your barren soul, I did my best to pull them out and sew the open wounds. My God, we did so well for each other.

I often wonder when things began to fall apart. Was it when our wounds were healed and our souls began seeking something else in this ****** up world? Even now I grieve for the things we achieved together and the things we’ll never experience together. The thought of never picking a wedding dress with you kills me every time. I’ll never get to put a ring on your finger. I’ll never watch you walk down the aisle, glowing under the May sun (because you always said you wanted to get married on May 15th). I’ll never get to spend the first night in our hard-earned home somewhere in the suburb or a new apartment in the city. I wonder sometimes if you remember me fondly… or if you even think about me from time to time. Men have always been the weaker ***, far more prone to sentimentality and regret. And, well. I am regretting hard right now. We did so much good for each other but, God, I wish I did so much more. Anyways, I hope you are doing well. I pray that God is kind to you night before bed.

Maybe one day we’ll be able to talk to each other again. As old friends.
Until then…

Can I die from a broken heart?
If I smile through the agony
Will it tear me apart?
Or will I somehow be ok?

If I drag myself out of bed
Clear the poisonous thoughts
Out of my fragile head
Will I somehow be ok?

Can I die from a broken heart?
Should I lay here and never leave
Or rise and focus on a fresh start
Tell me which do I choose?

When all is said and done
And I chose the latter of the two
Would that mean that he has succeeded?
In truly breaking me