Letting T[you] go.
I know this is the phase of denial, protecting me from feeling the crushing weight of your betrayal. I know the emotions will rush back eventually, and the realization will all but kill me. I heard somewhere to feel heartbroken is something to relish, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be a fucking fetish. I almost don’t believe I spent so much time on my knees, hands and heart open to give you whatever you need. It never even occurred to me that reciprocation is the key you never gave to me. Maybe this emptiness is just a side effect of giving my all until I had nothing left. It’s amazing how wearing my heart on my sleeve has given me a weird sense of peace. To you, I have no more words left to say. I wouldn’t even care at this point if you asked me to stay. There’s nothing like being told over and over that no one cares. Those words, that line, all the things you can’t take back undoing a love of eight years. I loved you for so long, I almost forgot what it means to be free. Waking up this morning and wrapping my mind around the events of last night, I feel like I can finally see. The knives you threw at my heart in the dark dissolved in the morning light. I don’t ache for your touch, I don’t wish that you’ll reach out. I just want something new and not you. I just want someone to teach me what love is actually about.
