I don’t love you, but I did, and I’m sorry for showing that emotion I have so much hate for.
All of this crashes to the ground, and you see it all broken into pieces, just there, nothing you can do about it, and you feel that burning feeling in your heart, telling you this was going to happen, saying to walk away, but you do the opposite, you continue to walk forward into the broken memories, thinking somehow this will work, and the memories will be brought back and he will be yours again…and you look down at your feet, and they’re bleeding, but you keep going, because even though it hurts, you have to do it to stop the pain in your heart. Your mind is telling you to go forward, but your heart is slowly tearing. Piece, by piece, by piece. And then at that split moment, you look up at his face, at that second you realize something…lies. And the funny thing is you get mad at your heart, not him, no because your heart is what let him in. Again. And again. And again.
He lied to you and your heart was overwhelmed by idiocy, and took them all in, filling in the cracks. You wake up laying on that glass and no matter how uncomfortable it is, you don’t want to get up. So you stay. And you let it dig into your mind that he’s gone. And he is. And that’s what hurts the most. But time passes, and you’re starting to forgive your heart. But you have given it limits. It can only go so far.
