All I Wanted Was For You To Fight For Me, And You Couldn’t Even Do That

All I asked was for you to fight for me. For you to tell me the truth when you felt something was wrong. For you to just be honest with how you felt about me and you.

I wanted us to work. And I think you know in your heart, that I’m telling the truth.

I loved who we were back then. I loved how we fit into one another’s arms. How we just molded into one another, like magic. And I loved the you who loved me.

Sometimes I want to get back to how we used to be. To get back to the beginning. To get back to August and holding hands in the hot rain. To get back to the shy smiles and bashful sideways glances. To sundresses and summer kisses.

I want to go back to cozy nights in, where all we did was listen to one another’s breathing, back to when just being with one another was enough. To snow days and foggy windows. To when everything was new and fresh and giddy. To icy pavements and your eyes that seemed to warm me up even when it was 20 degrees outside. 

To get back to who we were. At the start.

And then I want to go back to when things got tough. To when things were awkward and weird and uncomfortable. I want to go back to when neither of us had answers. To when we didn’t have words to describe how we were feeling. To when we had more pauses than conversations. To when we had more silences than eye contact.

To when everything was going wrong, and we didn’t even know why.

I want to go back to what went south. To go back to what you were thinking when you called it off. I want to have the courage to question you, to make you squirm. To make you think about what you really wanted instead of just making impulsive decisions.

I sometimes think – was I not enough for him? Was I not pretty enough for someone like him? Was I too boring or lazy or dumb? What was wrong with me?

But then I have to remind myself how it all panned out. How it all blew up. No. It wasn’t me. And I will not fall victim to those thoughts that erupt in my head. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me at all. It was you.

You were the one who didn’t fight. You were the one who didn’t tell me what you wanted. You were the one who didn’t give me a chance. You were the one who didn’t try. To try to make it better. To try to make it nicer and smooth out all the wrinkles. 

I gave you every chance. I gave you every second to tell me what you wanted. To tell me what you needed. But you stayed with your lips sealed. You stayed with your eyes on the ground.

And then it was all over. And you were gone.

You just gave up. You gave up when I needed you the most. You gave up when I loved you the most. You gave me up and you gave ‘us’ up. And for what? I’ll never know.

All I wanted was for you to try. To fight. To work. 

And you couldn’t even do that. TC mark

Lauren Jarvis-Gibson

For more poetry and writing follow me on Instagram!

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You look back and you just feel stupid.
You can’t forgive yourself for falling
or believing all the lies.
You reread every text.
You relive every memory.
And it all starts making sense —
he never wanted love.
He only wanted attention.
He only wanted validation.

“It’s just wondrous how every time I go through some emotional trauma, your posts are so relatable and it gives me so much hope. I love the writing and the photos. It’s all a pleasure to read. I can’t thank you enough for it, really.” — DM from @ThoughtCatalog Instagram follower

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