the book of heartbreak

day 1

We ended because we were breaking.

Not only as a relationship, but also as people. We were both deteriorating and watching each other bleed, but for some reason neither of us had mustered up enough courage to leave. It wasn't healthy, but we somehow got by.

And when we finally ended, I don't know how I felt. I felt happy because I wasn't dying over someone else anymore. I felt independent because I wouldn't be feeding off of someone else's happiness. But overall, I felt a deep fiery burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was regret.

I had asked myself countless times whether or not we were a good idea. You treated me like no other. You would always call me your princess and say that I deserved the world. You would always hug me when I'm cold and tickle me when I'm stressed and upset.

Then again, I was nothing more than a princess to you. You said I deserved the world, but didn't even give me a fraction of yours. Your hugs became cold and my laughter became forced.

I convinced myself that I still loved you, because how would I function without you? You told me that you loved me more and more each day, which was one of your many lies.

Then one day, you finally cracked. You told me I wasn't good enough, and that I never would be. You said you could get so much better from someone else. You said that there was nothing I could do to save us, because your love was dying while mine was still burning. There were embers, but it was still burning.

Like the fool I was, I begged for you back. I needed you like the oxygen I breathe and I needed to inhale your scent and wear it like a prize. I needed you in my life because I relied on you for all my happiness, blinded by your attention and love for me that I didn't realize that my friends and family could give me more than you ever did.

You took me back out of pity. You didn't expect anything to get better, but you felt incredibly sorry for the poor girl with a naive heart. You wanted to toy with it some more and tell me you loved me again, just hours after you made me feel worthless.

I thought we could work. I thought we would survive this, but somewhere I knew we wouldn't. You weren't good for me. You were a toxic person who made me feel like a piece of meat.

I left. And now I'm sitting here writing love poems and crying my eyes out because of you and the wreck you left me in. You made me feel like I could never make anyone happy and that I wasn't good enough for you. You said you deserved better, and I finally realized that I was the one who deserved better.

With all that said, why do I still feel butterflies in my stomach when I see your face and I still long for you after reading our texts? Why do I still smile at you and text you and try to start conversations with you while you look away?

Because I fucking love you, and I hate myself for that.