i long for the day when this doesn’t hurt,
when i don’t tell the story in paragraphs
always defending, always justifying -
that it comes out in simple sentences.
“i loved him, and i thought he loved me the same.
i was wrong. there was someone else,
and then there was just me. i wasn’t enough,
and i’m not sure if i am now.
i still love him.”
i long for the day when my decision
other times, i long for the day
when we are only casual acquaintances,
exchanging pleasantries every few months.
we won’t talk about when we were so close
our roots were intertwined.
instead, we’ll talk about how we’re
happy for each other, and we’ll mean it.
mostly, i just want to be better.
the torn edges of my self
smoothed out like the
river pounds the rock,
so will the stream of time
round me out.
i want to laugh and love and live vibrantly.
i wrote this nearly a year ago after being cheated on. i wish i could revisit it to add how things are now but that doesn't feel right.