I thought it was love. it wasn’t.
#fyp #mentalhealthawareness #love #poem #ex
Thinking about it just bums me out.
I love her.
At least I think I do.
Because she made my heart beat in two.
I hate admitting that.
I know I’ll probably never see her again.
Never hear her voice.
Never know the person she’s become.
Our lives split apart.
That’s just reality.
I should move on.
Some days I think I finally am.
Not because I love her less.
Because I’m getting tired of carrying the hurt.
I don’t even want her back anymore.
I just want peace.
I want to forget she ever existed.
Funny thing is she used to tell me, “Out of sight, out of mind.”
I never understood how someone could live like that.
Maybe she could.
Maybe I just couldn’t.
Sometimes I tell myself she never loved me.
Sometimes I think she loved me the best she knew how.
I don’t know which one hurts more.
Maybe that’s why I keep asking the same questions.
Not because I expect answers.
Because I don’t know how to stop.
She left.
She moved away.
She said she never would.
Life changes.
People change.
Promises do too, I guess.
Some days it feels like I was only useful until I wasn’t.
Other days I think that’s just my anger trying to make sense of losing somebody.
Maybe both can be true.
I don’t know.
Looking back, I can finally admit something.
There were a lot of things she never wanted to do with me.
Then I’d see her doing them later with someone else.
That hurt.
Not because of the cartoons.
Not because of what they were doing.
Because it made me wonder if it was me all along.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it wasn’t.
I cheated.
I’ll carry that.
Nobody has to remind me.
I know what I did.
But I also know the relationship wasn’t perfect before that.
We were already breaking in ways neither of us knew how to fix.
I spent a long time believing all of this was only my fault.
Now I think it was more complicated than that.
The funny thing is I still don’t recognize myself.
I spend every day tearing myself down just to build something back up.
Trying to get on a schedule.
Trying to discipline myself.
Trying to become someone I can actually look at.
Then I’ll just be standing there…
and my eyes start watering for no reason.
The tears come before I even realize I’m thinking about her.
I used to be proud that nobody could get to me.
I was cold.
Nothing bothered me.
Then she happened.
Now she’s the crack in the wall I spent my whole life building.
I hate that she still has that kind of power over me.
Maybe she doesn’t.
Maybe I gave it to her.
Either way…
I’m the one still carrying it.












































































































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