For a very long time I felt too small and insignificant to have what we had. I believed every word that tumbled out of the bullies’ mouths and finally, when hope was diminishing quickly, you, possibly the most important stranger to have entered my life, came along.
Your name arises between my lips when I think of happiness, it reaches the tip of my tongue when I think of home. Lazy days when you can let yourself bask in the sunshine as it beats down on your back, when everything seems blissful and carefree and daisy chains are all there is to occupy you – that is what you remind me of. Favorite memories, singing at the top of your lungs, the quickened heart rate in the face of adventure.
But I’m not something you want anymore.
And I must admit it’s easier than it was the last two times, but I’m still reeling. The emptiness in your eyes when you look my way, if you ever look my way again, is not something I am looking forward to. At least before we came together like the blistering sun and crash of thunder all at once, I was a stranger you’d be intrigued by. Now I am worse than a nobody. I’m someone you wish to avoid. You know me inside out, back to front, in and around every dark corner I sheepishly showed you. But all you can do is give a sorry shrug to the depth of my existence and walk away.
I want to howl, to ebb away any feelings of meaningless and lack of direction. But I can take matters into my own hands; I am in control of my own path and direction. Not you, not anyone else.
Despite your eyes being the warmest shade of blue I have ever set my own on, they have the ability to create a great sadness in others. I should know.
It’s like I am constantly fighting you to love me, and I know I deserve more. I do. It’s just that I believe you can still give it. You have before.
That’s exactly it – you gave me love before. Maybe you haven’t for a while because there is nothing you can do to stop me from loving you. It seems that everything is just a drop in the ocean for me when it comes to your mistakes.
I guess you just can’t, or won’t, fight. Refusing to see the good in me even though you’re more than familiar with it. And it’ll take every fiber in my being to not try for the both of us, but I have to trust you will come back if you want to. I have to for me.