I was never the type of woman to go crazy over a stranger,
over someone she had never met.
But with you it was like we had known each other forever - like we fell into a rhythm from a long forgotten past.
I was so desperate to grasp onto this chance - my first chance at happiness with someone else, a chance at being someone's first choice - that I ignored all of the signs.
I let you blind me.
I willingly gave you my eyes and burnt my barriers to ash, letting my protection swirl away in the breeze.
I let myself believe and be vulnerable and be weak.
You made me weak.
Then you crushed me.
I've never been the type of woman to trust wholeheartedly,
the type to let my walls drop and welcome someone in.
But with you I had no choice.
It was like I needed you to breathe, and by inhaling you into my lungs,
I let you invade my senses and take control.
I fell for your sweet facade and once I tasted your bitter truth -
I was awoken.
I had fallen for a lie, one well hidden and dangerous.
Once you finally released me from your haze, I had nothing left.
All of myself had been destroyed and rebuilt,
I was a stranger to myself.
And as much as I hate you for what you did to me,
I don't blame you.
The only fault here lies with me,
for believing that anyone could be perfect and safe and warm,
for believing that trust was still a sacred oath,
for believing in love.

In the soft and warming light
of the wood panelled room
where family lunches were served
on Christmas and Easter
they were bubbling quietly in July
in a drunken haze of festivity
knowing the simple pinecone smelling
truth laced with second hand smoke
that it would all turns out fine
because they had each other's back.
For today
and yesterday
and tomorrow.