Once upon a time, I believed love could conquer it all.
Once upon a time, I gave it my all.
Once upon a time, I believed it all.
But that was then, and here I am now, looking back and remembering that girl, wishing that no one had broken her dreams. Wishing that the "once upon a time" was the beginning of her fairy tale, not the beginning of sadness and disappointment. Not this understanding of reality. Not this moment when I have come to remove those rose-tinted glasses. No, no one forced them off of me. It was me. I took them off after pushing for so long on empty, not even crumbs, but merely on hopes of fumes. How long can someone go before they give up?
I used to think love was all you needed. I used to think if you love someone you could push through it all. And I mourn for that version of me. I wish I still believed in that. And maybe deep down that version of me is still there, but not for this, not for us. Because for too long, I have bled myself dry for you. For too long, I have waited. I want love the action, not love the word, because no, love the feeling, it's simply not enough.
I don't know if it saddens me or if I'm disappointed in myself that even now, after all this time here, I am still hoping, still waiting, still praying that you prove it. That you prove it was all worth it.
My brain, it knows... but still, my heart wishes. I know how it looks, I know how it seems, I know it all. And despite my brain knowing, even then a part of me still loves that I love to dream. I love that I'm able to love so passionately and that I love to give. I love all those parts of myself. I just wish you knew how to appreciate them.
God, I still go back to those times when I loved you so much it hurt, when I loved you so much I couldn't breathe, when I loved you so much I didn't, I couldn't, think of a world without you.
But I let you string me along with all those promises, with all those pretty words, with all those plans for a life. But again, that's all it was — just words — and God did I believe it! I don't know if at this point I'm still clinging to this for love or simply because I want to believe that you will not let down that little girl who once believed in happily ever after.
So here I sit in this limbo, with all my thoughts, with all my mess. And with this small hope that things will change, even knowing that I can't make you act differently. I can't make you love me the way I've begged you to love me. The way I want to be loved.
I know all of this, and yet here I sit with my arms crossed and talking to the moon.
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