I never really understood why people referred to their significant other as “my other half” or “my missing puzzle piece”.
I was always too whole to understand the concept of being filled. Then I met someone and that concept started to make a little bit more sense. He and I felt like we fit together. Two whole people who just fit together.
But as we got to know each other, our hidden differences started to appear and we no longer fit together in the same way. It eventually became obvious that we actually didn’t fit together at all.
But being the stubborn people that we are, instead of letting each other go, we tried to change each other’s mold. He’d bend me and I’d pull him as we carelessly forced the other person to turn into something that they weren’t ready to or even wanted to become.
The thing is… although the bending and pulling was painful, we still wanted to try. Because despite no longer fitting together, our deep feelings for one another was our glue — and that forced us to keep trying and trying and trying until we completely lost ourselves.
We even lost the person that we fell for. It’s funny how that happens. You start to hate everything about the person that made you love them in the first place.
At least, that’s what happened on your end.
I never asked you or even wanted you to change who you are. I only ever asked you to change your perception of me. I even begged you to accept me for who I am. But, you refused. You wanted to turn me into what you wanted me to become. And I tried…
But when you wrapped your clay mold around me, it suffocated me. So when it hardened, I broke it to set myself free.