Between Birth and Death

Suffering

I thought about all the pity I had given myself throughout the past few years. It was not only selfish, it was a large feeling. Of course those thoughts of suffering came from an emotional disaster which triggered depression, however, I had realized it was not I who had the worst. He did.

He was the one who chased me for those long, hard years without me even sparing a fragment of sympathy or care. He was the one who stayed up through those many sleepless nights, wondering what he did wrong and what he could do to get me back every time I abandoned him. It was him who kept his mouth shut through all of my issues and doubt to make me happy. When he was falling apart from every word he didn't receive from me.

It was him who let me leave so he could please me and satisfy my needs. It was him when cried into his pillow every time he wasn't around someone so they didn't have to see his pain. He was the one who wouldn't eat, because he knew that I was gone. He was the one who couldn't bare to look at another girl without thinking of me. He was the one who couldn't bare to move on.

And when I thought I was the one suffering, he was the one dying inside. The one regretting every single second spent living. The one who stared into space not knowing what to do with his life anymore. Not me. No. It wasn't I who suffered. It was him who suffered.

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This one was super short! Sorry! It was just a thought of mine and had to write it down!!