You used to care, and you used to tell me how happy I made you.

When this rollercoaster of a relationship started, we were on top of the world,

with nothing but each other's laughter to keep us company on the ride.

Your touch so tender, so loving.

I felt safe.

I finally felt happy- the days of lonesome nights and anxious thoughts seemed to fade away into thin air.

You were the company I've been craving for years.

To me, you were my king, unfortunately, I was not your queen.

Weeks passed and you no longer told me how happy I made you.

You never called me 'beautiful' anymore, and instead only called me when you needed something.

I became your personal assistant- at your disposal- doing anything and everything for you, and nothing for me.

I began to convince myself that I was not becoming depressed,

I was just sad that you didn't care to spend as much time with me as you did with other women and your favorite beer bottle.

And If I'd asked you to chose between me and the beer, you would have chosen the beer.

After all, it seemed to make you happier than I ever could.

The distance became unbearable,

knowing I was the second, third, and even fourth choice.

Never the first.

How I wish you ended your games sooner- saved me the heartache and the tears.

Every time you almost "drunk kissed" another girl I found myself asking why I wasn't good enough.

Every time you refused to hold my hand I pretended it didn't hurt.

Well, it hurt. You made my life into a field of pain.

I hope you're happy.

You used me as a pawn in your game of chaos.

Didn't care for my feelings, or how your actions affected me.

You tore my heart,

into pieces I cannot begin to count.

Then you left, without much explanation,

To move on with your life while I stayed drowning in mine.