We broke up because you were unkind. It’s easy to be nice when things are going right but you were unkind whenever we had a fight and your tone of voice turns into something I didn’t like, and you’d throw in some insults as if simply explaining to me what was wrong wouldn’t be enough. You were unkind and it showed even when you tried to mask it at first with sweet words.
We broke up because you were too busy pretending not to have the time for me and I was busy pretending it was okay, but it was not what I deserved.
We broke up because you made it so easy for me to walk away. I’d wake up with you gone from the left side of the bed but you’d leave the sheets and my head in complete disarray. You were always late or leaving and I had nothing else to say. But damn, you didn’t even try to make me stay.
We broke up because of all the poetry I’ve read you and all the art I’ve shown you but failed to comprehend.
We broke up because “I get you”. Just as you told me a million times and one. “I get you.” You were easy to read like the books on the shelf beside my bed. “I get you.” But you just couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t get me.
We broke up because of the walls I’ve put up from the lovers in the past. I put up brick by brick of distrust and assumptions of bad intentions until it was high, too high and built so strong you couldn’t tear it down. But in the end, it was what saved me from you.
We broke up because of all the times you let go of my hand.
We broke up because of all the times I wanted you to stay but you left anyway.
We broke up because of the songs we played in the car through the busy streetlights we passed that came and went like the people in my life and now you. It was either your song or my song but never our song.
We broke up because you stopped trying. You stopped trying to know me more—like how I like my coffee every morn or how my natural hair has these weird wavy curls. You stopped trying to get to know my mind, my soul and my weird quirks but you wanted to skip them all and jump straight to what’s underneath my clothes.
We broke up because you weren’t encouraging me. You were trying to change me. But you can’t just mould me into the girl that you like. I wasn’t born to fit your ideals.
We broke up because you stopped doing a lot of things—the kisses on the forehead, the tight hugs and good morning texts. You threw out the goodnight texts too and the “how are you’s?” They stopped coming one by one and I looked for them. They never came back and it’s such a pity to have to ask.
We broke up because your love never felt real. I’m so familiar with fading passing feelings I didn’t have to stay long to recognise it.
We broke up because of all the questions I asked and found my answers in every hesitation, every pause, every hollow space in between your words.
We broke up because you shouldn’t destroy the people you love. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You never really loved me to begin with.
We broke up because it wasn’t so hard to see how you truly felt when it was in the inconsistencies in what you said and what you did.
We broke up because of all the lies and the long nights, the ticking of the clock that filled the silence in our fights, the ringing in my head of all the alarms you’ve set off and the happy memories in between that’s now been tainted.
We broke up because you liked the way I think, the way I kiss you and the way I seem to make mundane tasks seem fun. But you didn’t like me for who I am.
We broke up because you were giving me less than what I deserve. I didn’t need to be your world. I just wanted to be a part of it. But that part wasn’t only the tiny bit that you were willing to give.
We broke up because all those times were fun, but I never really felt like you were “the one”.
We broke up because you got tired of waiting. But I didn’t even make you wait long.
We broke up because we didn’t try to understand the complexities that we came with or the skeletons in the closet we hid. You didn’t see how I tore my heart to pieces as I dissect every feeling, emotion or thoughts I had as I put them down on a page.
We broke up because of your absence. The excuses that never seemed valid. All that did was get me used to a life without you.
We broke up because I knew that when I start to voice out my thoughts, everything we built will come crashing because the foundation wasn’t strong enough to get shaken. But I told you everything and listened to every word you said but we still failed to see eye to eye. So, I just sat there as I simply watched what we built fall apart.
We broke up because you cared about me—you cared about the way I look, the way I dress, the way I walk (and my back should be straight)—but you didn’t care enough and it’s not the kind of care I want.
We broke up because you only wanted me when it was convenient for you. You didn’t want me when I was being hard. But all my moods, my personality, my anxieties and the rest of me come in a package deal, baby.
We broke up because you thought that without you, I’d fall apart. But if you planned to hurt me, you should’ve tried harder than that. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you thought I wouldn’t be alright when really, all I needed was something or someone to write about.
We broke up because you were an adventure—like the wind on my face when I’m by the sea, the streetlights we passed by the freeway late at night and the warmth of the sun on my face on a winter day. But you never felt like a home. And that was why you couldn’t be the one.