Feeling like what you did to me, you couldn’t do it to her.
Not being able to contact her… you called my phone 5 times hoping I’ll answer.
And then every time I answered that put the stamp on when she didn’t answer I was sure to pick up the phone.
You did this cycle to me so many times you probably forgot how it even started.
I ended the cycle because I didn’t understand it. You came back to me… you found a way to get in contact with me… and nothing changed.
Me: Why stay in something when you're not giving me what I want.
Me: I tried so many times… I tried to stay in it… I tried.. I gave you so many times to fix what was wrong…
I found my voice and when I did… you made me feel like I was wrong.. You gaslighted me… you made me feel crazy and complete shit…
I’ve always wanted answers but your lips were sealed… I was talking to a wall on issues that mattered to me
After a while, your compliments, your lip bits, your laugh, and your smile just felt fake, felt like manipulation because it was…
I was quiet, I was wrapped in an emotional ball…
I knew what I wanted... I knew what I thought I wanted and when I would even slip some of it out…
I was left with silence, I’m wildn, or who is this talking to me…
We would get in heated arguments and all I would do is block, block because I didn’t want that type of anger in my life
It's been in my life before and nothing good has come out of it…
My dad would have that type of anger and it would lead to nothing but destruction and with the anger we brought out of each other it was leading to happen to us.
I’ve always felt like you never saw me. You saw me I could become. You saw the me , that was probably her.
When I saw you I saw the you. The you I had in the beginning. As we continued to talk I didn’t recognize who I was talking to. It was as if I was trying to play chess in the chance of winning to win who I wanted back.
Come to the realization that you who are now, is who I’m going to get because it’s you. Or it's you when you're with me.
I have to accept what it is… which is nothing.
Which is nothing more than memories, good and bad.
Nothing more than moments, what-ifs, that are slowly disappearing, and me wanting to reach out to you.
Reaching out to someone that is no longer there.
The goodbyes have happened. And they will continue to happen until your nothing more than a memory. Until you're nothing more than something I think in passing. Until I don’t think of you at all.