song of 5 stars ⋆｡°✩

That's selfish, and I acknowledge that. Is that why our earliest memories are the ones that make me sob, while our latest ones feel null and void?

Perhaps, deep inside, I never wanted to leave. Perhaps those early years were so good because the reality of closing the distance was still miles away. We could coast before the salty tide actually came in.

Eight years together is no joke, but the bigger issues were clearly tempered by the long distance nature that we had. Regret is bitter, heavy coal tied to my chest. It's too soon to be free. Too soon to untie from the what-ifs.

She is in a home she doesn't want to be in, my brother's home, so intrinsically linked to me after falling so out of love with me.

Yesterday's tears came from memories of butterfly kisses in my bed. Today's discomfort comes from couple items that meant we were bonded and now no longer are. They're also a reminder of doubt-was I so very bad to you?

My closest friends have never had issues with how I operate, they know who I am, they love my spikes. You.. You needed softness, and you deserve softness, but it seems my attempts at it weren't enough.

For the longest time we were lines in parallel then suddenly we fell so out of sync. Could I have done more? If I had, would it still have even been me? Or some ideal facsimile crafted to you? To what extent is it right for a person to change out of love?

I despise you, I loathe you, yet I want you to be safe and happy. Perhaps this hatred comes from the fear I truly didn't do enough. I tried to buffer my thorns, but you can only hide sharpness for so long.

But as my best friend said, there's truly no point in ruminating on the what-ifs, that's addict behaviour.

Regardless, how desperately I wish for my brain to stop quietly seeking out our moments. I try to quell the ache with distraction, but the neurons have a penchant for digging.

Perhaps the only way to find peace is to come to terms with the fact that I unknowingly broke her heart, months ago. I simply couldn't have known.

But the way she frames how she sacrificed for me, seems like a mirror into the same behaviour she crucified me for. It's still hard to make sense if it and I still wonder if childhood cracks went deeper into her than I knew how to handle.

Bitter prickling at my eyes, how tearfully I yearn for that version of us again. But your decision was clear in the way you spoke, it was not to be.

It seems I'm yearning for memories, when who we are is no longer that summer-fresh couple that met under purple night skies.

I yearn for the past, and I've always yearned for it. How you'd look at me with nothing but adoration, in warm backlit light as I peppered your face and set the room alight with giggling.

I quit my job for you, turned down local recruiters for you, I have tried to introduce every form of love I could to you, and you decided to make a narrative up in your head and take me out of it.

Crazy how I tried so hard to introduce you to all my friends because I saw how amazing a person you were. Crazy how I picked you every time my family didn't pick my happiness. Crazy how I picked you when the world didn't want me to pick you.

Everyone was able to see how much I loved you, except for you. You just couldn't accept that we disagree in different ways, and that was enough for you to say, that's it for me.