You were the kindest soul I have ever met. Your lips said all the sweetest words that I could ever hear. You said, “good morning”, “I love you”, and “babe” as if you were singing the most beautiful melody that was ever written.
You tasted your words before you spoke, because that is how you made sure to never hurt me or cause me any pain. You danced with your thoughts before you let them go; you made love with me in your mind with a burning passion over a hundred times before you took my hands and ever so softly kissed them, as if I were so fragile. You loved me in so many ways I could never imagine.
You held my hand when I felt alone, and you held me tighter every time I tried to let go. You sang me my favorite lullaby when I needed to take a break from this cruel world; you made my favorite meals when I hungered for life. You turned to look at me every time I said something, as if you were scared to miss a smile from my lips and sparkle from my eyes. You toyed with my fingertips when I kept myself quiet, as if you were taking away the anxieties building from within me. You laughed with me, and your laughter sounded like a knife cutting through every ounce of worry I have ever known.
“I love you,” you said, possibly for the hundredth time and it still sounded so pure and so sincere that it was impossible for me to say, “I love you, too.” Because the amount of love I had for you will never compare to what you have for me.
Every time you looked at me as if I was the most beautiful thing you ever held, my mind wandered somewhere else. My mind wandered to a place where I could shout my frustrations and I could curse and I could be messy and I would not be beautiful. My heart wandered to a place where I would not be looked upon as some wonderfully put together person, but just as a person that I really am—anxious, cynical, and lethargic.
Every time you held my hand, my heart wanted to run away, because I could never be as good as you thought I was, but I had to keep myself from falling apart just for you to stay sane. Because that one night I broke down on the kitchen floor, you saw that mess. You saw that ugly part of me, and it broke your heart. You cried as if you were in so much pain that I had to hold myself from falling apart. For you. I had to live and breathe the way you wanted me to. Every damn time I swallowed those dark thoughts and that lump in my throat when I wanted to cry was for you. It was all for you. The beauty that I had to put before your eyes, it was for you. It was so alienating that I could not even see myself under this cotton candy love story that you wanted me to believe in. It was all for you.
You see, my demons are here, buried so deep. And every time they wiggle their way out of my being, it hurts me twice as much. It burns me so slowly but surely. But you don’t know. And for how long can I hold them in? How long can I pretend to be okay when inside I am dying? God knows how dying I was deep inside of me, but you were smiling so brightly and looking so deeply into my eyes. You kept on wanting to battle my demons, but honey, you were burying them deeper into my heart and into every ounce of my being. The way you kissed my forehead every night was like another stab to my already shattered heart. Every laugh we shared together was like a melody that buried me down six feet under.
So I had to walk away, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I cannot be a beautiful mess. I am just a mess, and there is no way to turn it into a beautiful story. This love story is not for me, because I need to write my own story before I become the person you need me to be.
I had to walk away and be who I am. And I am sorry.
I had to choose my demons over you.