I love looking into those brown eyes of yours, but I hate seeing those red and swollen from crying. I love how you dream, and hope things for love, but I hate those days when your wings are too broken to soar high.
I love how you fight for her, but I hate knowing she is not even fighting together with you but against you.
I hate the idea of her. She who did you wrong, so wrong you stopped believing in miracles. She who made you forget about the bright side of every picture, every situation. She who made you feel unsafe whenever you let yourself being the happiest, for for you it will turn all back around when it is on its peak. I hate that she took away your optimism when she left you cut open, blood flowing, heart dangling.
Sometimes, I wish, maybe pray even, that I had met you first before you met her, that I had known you first, and that I came into your life before her. I wish to be loved by version she once had – wild, free-spirited, careless, adventurous, risk-taker.
You guard yourself in a way no one can touch you in places where hands cannot reach. You never let your guard down anymore, nervous being around people who you think will leave eventually. You are so fragile, so vulnerable, so resistant, yet so tough.
I wish I could have shown you, and made you feel the appreciation you deserve. I wish I could have given you the right amount of love you should have had. If I could turn back time, I would definitely race her to know you first to save you from this storm nobody sheltered you.
If I would ever have the chance to meet her, in time where you could have used a bridge for you two, I would try to change her mind, to give you at least a chance, hear you out, for you do certainly not deserve to be in this chaos. And I know if she had ever bet on you, you would do anything, everything to please her.
But I guess it is all a little too late now. You are hurt, for falling way too hard for someone who was nowhere near to catch you, who did not even plan on catching you at the first place.
But who is she who did you wrong? So wrong that you decided to throw away the old version of yourself over this curve-balled little puppy. Who did you wrong for you to mask, fake all your emotions? Who did you so wrong for you to be so afraid to take another step of falling, not gambling if somehow someone decided to catch you the second time.
If you were to give me a chance, I would want to keep you playing stories in your head, like picturing your own fairytales so we could turn them all into reality one by one – ride a hot-air balloon, skin-dipped in a forest lake, bake cupcakes with fancy toppings together, ski in Utah, travel to Paris. Everything.
I want to be the person to give you what you want without asking.
I want to be the person to experience being your princess. I want to be the person who you would take chances with. I want to be the person to do you right.