I Hate That I Can’t Tell You This

I’m going to act like I’m good and that I have everything under control till I numb myself of feeling anything towards you.

You broke me 10,000 different ways but I learned to put myself back up each time. Even the slightest mention of your name brought me to my knees, you brought me to my knees. It shattered me to mend my brokenness, caused by your callousness, all by myself.

I hate myself for not getting over you sooner. I hate that I couldn't tellget my pieces back together better, I hate myself for losing parts of me along the way just to please you but I hate myself even more for not being able to hate you. Believe me when I say that I tried a million different ways but I wasn’t able to bring myself to regret something I once wanted and in doing so I created a lovely little mess for myself. I hate that I can't tell you this.

But not anymore! I refuse to let the thought of you consume me, the thought of your touch move me and the thought of your kisses create a chaos in my heart. I refuse to let you have power over me where I begin to doubt myself and where I went wrong to have you not look back even once and give me the closure I want but not the one I need anymore.
Here I am, writing through my pain – a year later – while I hear news of you messing with your new girls making the rounds. You’ve moved on, leaving me to grasp the dust of your retreating feet on the ground. It hurts, it always did and it will for some time more, but I know I’m stronger than I was before and I’m only going forward from here.

I wish no harm your way but I wish for you to grow up. To grow up and realise that empathy goes a long way. To grow up and realise that your actions were and are never limited to you. To grow up and realise that I still have so much of you left in my heart but I guess I need to grow up and realise that I was just collateral damage in your story.