To all the people thinking of someone who is now a sole memory in their mind
The past doesn’t pain me
As much as it does
To think about
What our future would have held
For I cannot enjoy the future
When I am fixated on the past
Because I am unable to work in the present
I envy those
Who can deal with this change
For this is why I find life so hard
I am not jealous
That you moved on
Nor that you’re happy
I am jealous because
You were able to
The pain is not
That you’re gone
And moved on
But that you’re doing fine in life
And I’m stuck in time
Yet I know that
You will not remember me by the love I gave
Nor the pleasure I pained
Not even the support I lathered you in
But all the times I did this
Too much
I want to love so despair again
But no amount of desperation
Could let me move on from you
It would have been easier to let go
If I had not gripped so hard all along
But I was just trying to stay
Away from our rocky water
It gets worse before it gets better
But I am too weak to persevere
The past doesn’t pain me
As much as it does
To think of what
Our future would have held
Being in love is hard. Real love, not any high school or college love. The type of relationship that fosters a feeling you had never experienced before. The type of feeling that you don’t ever want to have again because it hurt so badly when that feeling was dismantled that you don’t want anything to do with it again.
I had this love and it was amazing. Too amazing for a 16-18.5 year old to be filled with. Then it ended. Tragic and sudden my whole world was missing a huge piece of it.
Waking up and being an entirely different person, going months without talking to the person who understood you most. No amount of physical pain, of which I’ve ever experienced, could have matched to the pain I experienced from a bruised heart.
I can only pray that one day you are able to experience this type of love. I can only pray harder that if you do it doesn’t break you. It may just be me, but I would have rather not loved and been simply broken rather than have loved and been bruised.
Each year I look back on
Seems better than the following year
For example, last year was better than this year
And the year before last was better than last
So now I wonder
What does this year obtain
Which I will look back upon and miss
For I know that
It cannot be you
As you are already
Gone