It hurts to let go. At times you’d see that the more you try to rekindle things, the more things get even uglier. It’s inevitable that all good things come to an end, and it’s so mind blogging that today I am the lonely one while you’re out there acting like we never had a good thing going on. I should’ve seen it coming. Damn! I should’ve seen the signs, but I was so blinded by the spell you put on me. It was so inane of me to keep telling everybody that you were mine for eternity.
Sometimes I wonder if you ever even loved me. If you did, how could you be fine while my heart is burning in flames, your sweet words cutting my throat like sharp swords, tears running down and drying on their own, while you’re out there dancing like dirty Diana? I couldn’t resist your sweet, choking lies that made me believe that you were the one. However, at times I did see that you were not good for me. Yet I prayed that you would change and act right, but God must be really mad at me. HE showed me signs to help me see; but I chose to look through rose-coloured glasses and here I am all by myself with nothing but a broken heart.
You’re sitting at our favorite spot with your friends and I’m not there. I still remember the last kiss we had and how your sweet lips melted my cherry pop lips. When you look at that watch I gave you, don’t you see a reflection of me? That necklace you wear smells like my perfume and yet you pretend like you don’t care. I still remember the night you shot me with the “it’s over” bullet. Your voice rumbled like an earthquake and I couldn’t shield myself because you had it all figured it out, that you better off without me. I punished myself because I thought I had done something wrong, only to find out that you saw a hole and dragged me into it with you, camouflaging yourself with my innocent face. I miss you so much. The more I try to get you out of my head, the more you become attached in my membrane, like a tattoo.
Is it over? Should I turn over a new page? I don’t think so. It’s like you have me wrapped around your finger. I don’t even know where I will get the courage to move on.