You did this. How can you love someone so much and so deeply, yet hurt them in every which way possible ?

Genuine question,

Was I Really the Villain?

We just got too perfect too soon—two young children entangled within love’s genius trap. Reality hits when the thought of forever hits, and everyone retires to their tents… …but I was outside, under the rain, building ours, while still holding an umbrella over your head.

The entirety of myself was poured into the promise we made— Eyes clouded by love, heart racing at 1000 bps—not from anxiety, but from excitement. Not for what was, or what is, but for what will be. The prospect of the future looked so captivating, I rode into the world not with an army— …but like the last samurai. Giving up was never on the agenda. Funny how the idea of fighting for someone or something can make the craziest thoughts feel like amazing ideas.

Willingness to do things for you was a mere understatement. So lost in the war, so focused on designing the vision of us— You tend to forget that help is even an option.

Now, people call this stupidity. Some call it pride, ego, or confidence. (So many opinions.) But what if you’ve been so used to protecting someone, fighting for them, being their backup plan— That you forget they can fight for themselves… or even fight beside you?

(Perspective is always funny. Let’s flip this.)

In her eyes, it went from: "I’ve found someone willing to fight my battles, carry my load and baggage without a second thought. A protector."

Thoughts racing through her mind: “Indeed, I have found my knight in shining armor.”

She watches as he willingly struts on his horse into a battlefield to fight an unwinnable fight. Her heart full of hope, knowing she is his only motivation, hope, present, and future. It keeps her grounded. She rejoices each day he returns alive—though some days are lonelier than others.

But life and fate decide to put them to the test. They design an epic plot twist—unforeseen, one not even the world’s best writer could’ve imagined.

Now the knight is down on his last legs— Hit with more arrows than his armor could carry, grazed by multiple armor-piercing rounds.

What can he do? So used to being the fighter, he carries on. Fighting both his own battles and the one he’s building for them. Wearing a happy face despite the injuries, He limps off to battle every day. She notices from a distance—but never asks what’s going on. She feels avoided.

Back-and-forth happen. She says things, tells him of the distance— (In the language only they understood) …but never asks, “Are you injured?” Never checks beneath his armor.

And he—so fixated on the battle and the unforeseen circumstances— Forgets to translate her words from plain text to their encrypted language. The fear of looking weak consumes him. The fear of loneliness clouds her perception of her own importance to him.

Life, never siding with anyone, says: “This was expected.”

But Fate, who always rooted for them, whispers: “It’s not over.”

Life reminds Fate: “Love is the weakest pillar in a relationship.” But adds: “If she waits on him, and he trusts her strength enough to open up, they will be forever.” (All the while knowing… she’s packing her bags, evaluating one year of joy against two days of unrest.)

Though it's a cheat, Fate intervenes—gives the knight a stroke of fortune: A Day with no injuries.

He runs home to pour out his heart… Only to find an empty house, And a letter that says: “It’s done.”

Now, the fight feels pointless. The construction meant for two—wasted. But knowing fate is what we make of it, He still fights each day, Still builds the house, In hope of her return.

Full of regret, he asks: “Was I really the villain?”

Was he?

Or is life just a rollercoaster?

Would love to hear your opinion. 😊

To The Next Guy (Heartbreak Chronicles)

Here is to the next guy, Im scared that I’ll break your heart. But this goes out to you, right now, Before it even starts.

Here is to you, the next guy, That I might trust and let inside. Because I love you already, And we haven’t even tried.

To you, the next guy out there; I hope that you will be kind. I hope you see more than the surface Like my heart, passion, and mind.

However, Mr. Next guy, I know it will probably end. You’ll cut me off, and I’ll shut you out, And you’ll talk more to your “friends."

The problem with you, next guy, You might be a “guy” not a Man. Perhaps you’ll never notice how I never made any demands.

To anyone, so why would I start now? Why should I ever command, To be seen as I am, and respected, As a Lover, a Partner, a Friend?

As someone full of love and hope, That learned to hope for far less; I learned that when men said they cared, I became very distressed.

Because I couldn’t let them in, Which always was the key: But I never thought that when I did fall Anyone would try to catch me.

But maybe you, the next Man, I trust with soul and my heart, Will look in my eyes and not need words And I will trust you from the start .

And let me fall; And pick me up, And help me be okay? Accept me as I am, and going to be Then maybe that day I’ll say; “I thought no one could love me, If they ever finally knew, That fear has ruined my life until now, Maybe that ends with you?”

The next Man will listen to my music, Encouraging me to play, Not wonder when “My little hobby.” Will finally go away.

Maybe the next man will mean it, When he says that the reasons he fell, Best parts of me I hide deep away, Were not meant to be kept to myself.

I was meant to make music, I’m not sure yet what you do, Maybe right now you’re out there, Going through what I go through.

Here’s to you, the next Man, You already have my heart. I hope you like puzzles and pieces, The border’s the best place to start,

Here’s to you the next man, I hope you like being the world. To someone who’s never had much, But for you; the world she’ll unfurl.

Should this all never happen, I guess I know what I’ll be like? Perhaps a bit like I am right now Wishing you were here tonight.

To the next guy, (Should you not be the Man,) I hope you know that I’ll try. I’ll end it the second it’s over, And die inside when you cry.

But To YOU, Sir, the next Man, should we finally collide, And fuck up both of our worlds. I want to tell you so many things, And I will, when I’m your girl.

The next Man, I’m finally ready, To wrap my legs around you, Let you inside, in every way, And truly, next Man, worship you.