As I lie down staring into the emptiness of the room I inhabit and the life I lead, wondering how things change, and people and most importantly how you change without even realizing it until you are too far ahead of who, you used to be. It is actually funny how you become a stranger to yourself more like to your former self, how you become so apathetic that nothing matters anymore. And then there are days or should I say people, who make you so sensitive, so fragile, so vulnerable that every pore in your body, every emotion your soul possesses and every wound of your heart comes back to life to remind you of what used to be and what never will be. I just hate such days,or should I say such people? Perhaps I loved them way too much, once.
I have decided that I don't hate you anymore. I don't think I ever actually hated you, but I did resent you. I resented you for so long, for not putting in enough effort, for falling out of love with me, for taking me for granted. But I never hated you, I loved you too much to ever be able to hate you. I think we both went in it with love, I am sure that I did but I think you did too, because I felt loved, I felt wanted, I felt complete. Maybe that was the problem, you were not the missing piece, that was not on you but that is a discussion for another day. I think we went in with love or infatuation mistaken for love and when we ran out it, whatever that it was, we were afraid or perhaps too lazy to come out. I don't know about you but I know I knew deep down that we had run out of whatever that it was, but I kept telling myself, maybe if I put in a little more effort, a little more time we will rekindle it. I don't know about you though, because you stopped telling m...
It is frustrating and exhausting to be with you and not even be with you. To love you with all my heart and to know that you are not mine, never will be. To force myself to not even think if you can be. To wait for you to text, to not be sure if you can't reply or if you don't want to. To not being able to count on you, to think if I was dying and I called you, you might not even be able to answer. To love you anyway. To keep reminding myself that I have no right on you whatsoever, to know that you own me nonetheless. To love you, anyway.
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