He was your kryptonite, your weakness and your biggest downfall. You knew he wasn’t good for you, but you still couldn’t resist him, no matter how hard you tried. He became your realm and he had you from hello.
Part of you knew this would happen. You knew you should have stayed away from him, you told yourself that, but your head and your heart wanted two different things. How cliché, isn’t it?
When he was around the sun burned brighter and the world turned faster, he became the center of your tiny world and made it feel so much bigger. He didn’t have to do much, but the feelings he gave you were immense and as hard you tried, you couldn’t push them away.
And even now that things are over, you still lie in bed at night thinking of him. You think of all the way he destroyed you and smashed your perfectly good heart into millions of tiny pieces. It kills you, but you know deep inside if you could redo it, start again, choose to love him or not, you’d do it all over.
You hate yourself for loving him, because you shouldn’t.
He’s moved on while you’re still mulling over the thought of him, he has become your muse and no matter how hard you try you can’t get him out of your head.
You hate that you would love him all over again. You would dive back into his arms and let him scoop you up. You would pick up where you left off because you hate that you can’t make it through a single day without thinking of him, without wondering if he’s wondering about you, even though you know the answer.
Even if you say a hundred times a day that you hate him, the truth is, you don’t hate him for not loving you anymore, but you hate yourself for still loving him.
Loving him was like being found when you’ve been lost for so long. He made you feel safe and loved. He made you feel cared about and not over looked. He made you feel appreciated by all the words he said. But words are just words and eventually his actions stopped meeting the appealing lines that soared out of his mouth. Other things, new things, started filling his pretty little head and those things soon found a more important place with him.
You just wish you could call him and tell him how stupid he is and how much you miss him, but you knew it wouldn’t change a thing. You’d stand on a rooftop and scream it if you could because maybe it would make you feel better even though he’s gone part of him still lives inside you, a part you hate, but at the same time don’t want to let go of.
But you need to let go.
He just comes back in flashes, so bright and so forceful. It makes it hard to live without him.
He’s like a kaleidoscope of memories that just flash in front of your eyes. He fills your head with thoughts that you can’t forget.
He’s like the devil pulling you in with such a handsome smile that you can’t resist.
You pretend not to care, you say no when people ask if you miss him. You try to convince yourself you’re over him, and that you don’t want to run into him. You pretend your stomach doesn’t sink when his name is brought up and you pretend you don’t love him when the whole world knows you do.
As much as you tell yourself one day he will miss you too, deep down you know it probably isn’t true, so you just wait for the day where you stop missing him, too.