Vanquished and undone, I held onto the only person I had; myself.

I had felt neglected for some time, but I guess that's what unrequited love does to you. My heart had been a constant vacant space that refused to hold anything inside of it. I tried to make room for him in there. I pushed the thought of his love down my throat, knowing that it suffocated me every time. I carried on most days with a constant pit in my stomach. But I wanted to feel him, somehow, someway. He was a mystery. He always had been. He still is. He was a rambler, a rolling stone. A straggler in my mind. His footprints soiled my thoughts. But maybe I thought I could stop him from leaving. I could give him a home. I could be his home. But people can't be homes and vagrant men cannot stay. That's what burned me. I had seen a future within something that had nothing but a guaranteed ending. His words and his actions never matched up. How can you continue to love something but break it and twist it and push it into a corner?

I suppose it was easier for him to set me aside and turn his cheek on reality. But how does watching me smile and carry on, how does seeing me happier feel? It's easy to string words together and stare at them through a screen. It's simple to call someone and cut their voice off when you've tolerated enough. He was so good at that. He was good at coming and going. At missing me on cold, dark, lonely nights. So good at luring me in with his words only to throw me back into the fire. After escaping several times, I emerged with burns and scars.

So you wonder, why play with fire?

Why get burned until your skin has worn away, melting your feelings along with it and your heart doesn't beat the same? Because you never learn until you're willing to see that you deserve better.

I spent weeks, months, years in recovery. I lacked the want for another person to come into my life. I quickly understood that people aren't me. They don't have my heart. They're not genuine. They lack maturity. They don't understand that my heart is delicate and full with an insurmountable amount of love to give. They don't look at me as a human, but rather as an object. Being alone was better than trying. It was better than crying or wondering. My trust was limited. My skin was concrete. It was cold. Too tough to allow anyone to break it down. With each passerby, I thickened my skin; I built my wall higher.

Until you.

For sometime I'd thought all people would leave me empty. I thought it was better to push people away. I thought I couldn't feel anymore. I thought I'd rather be alone on a Friday night than with someone. Because people hurt people. And I was done being hurt. I thought people were bad.

But I thought wrong.

Since meeting you, the vacant space in my heart has begun to fill. My scars have faded.

My mind has cleared.

Thank you for taking the time to break down my wall. And thank you for getting rid of the facade that has riddled me for far too long.

For all that you do, thank you.

Never let someone that has broken you dictate your feelings toward someone else. Let them show you who they are. Give them a chance. After all, they're not what broke you. But try. Give being happy with someone new a chance... give it one more time with feeling.