Your Love Was Tame

Photo Credit: StockProject1

The calls were the first sign that our fire was going out

Calls of convenience

Like a chore, a bore, a dull activity needed to be done

How did it come to this?

From our endless talks about nothing and everything

Now all we have is the rare and awkward exchange on twitter, on Facebook

Now, all you’re good for is blog fodder

I caress your face and walk with you down the halls of memory, just to write about you.

You came, saw what you wanted, not what was there, and you left

I wish I could hate you but I can’t

I wish I could hate you, it’d be so much easier

Hate is a very simple emotion. It’s straightforward

But this… what I feel now does it even have a name?

My stupid brain is at it again, laying the blame on the only person who’ll listen – me

I should have run after you, sometimes I tell myself this

Broken down the doors as the picture of tomorrow I’d built in my head of us together went up in flames

My call logs say different.

They tell me I did – I fought, I waited, I prayed

You still left

You left me with only time to take care of my aching heart

Now I realise, leaving was for the best

Now I realise, your love was lukewarm

I wanted to say I’d rise again like the phoenix

But did we ever burn bright? Are there even ashes for me to be reborn?

You did this to us

I’m done carrying your scars

You used to be part of me. But no more

Now I’m whole again

I’m whole

 

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Moving On

Photo Credit: SecretsofaGoodGirl

How a person treats you is a reflection of them, not youthings you tell yourself when going through the aftermaths of a breakup.

Why do they call it moving on? Like it’s a feel-good thing.

Moving on doesn’t feel good. It hurts.

It’s like deciding to go on a diet. Or quitting soda drinks cold turkey.

It sucks at first, and the only bright spot is the logic part of your brain telling you you’re doing the right thing. In time, that voice will get louder. And easier to believe.

And one day, you would have moved on.

But not today. Today, you’re still moving on.

And it feels awful.

It is admitting you made a mistake, a poor decision. It’s admitting you lived with this mistake either oblivious or too stubborn to admit it.

You should have known. The signs were there.

When her words didn’t change but her actions did. You should have known.

She kept saying I love you but she stopped calling. You should have known.

She stopped caring. And then she stopped talking. You should have known.

Finally, you pull the plug, and the dejection overwhelms you.

This you knew. Anticipated.

It didn’t stop you feeling like your heart had been run over by a steam train.

I let you in where no one has been before. You went in and awakened places in me that I never thought I had, then left me when I’d come to depend on youthoughts that keep you crying into your sheets at night.

So yes, moving on sucks. But staying put would suck even more.

So dont.

Photo Credit: SecretsofaGoodGirl