#wnq poem
You always told me I would be better off without you. I used to think you were just insecure and you wanted the absolute best for me. That wasn’t the reason. It actually was a warning. I am better off without you and you knew it all along. It just took me a bit longer to figure this out.
As time passes by and memories start to fade, I’m beginning to see the red flags I missed when we first started talking. I used to make excuses for all the rude things you said, but I’m starting to realise it wasn’t okay at all. Maybe I truly am better off without you.
You’re still on my mind. I tend to remember the laughter we shared, but not the tears I wept every single night because you made me miserable. Why is it that every time we go through a heartbreak, we only remember the good parts?
I met you in february last year, and I had to leave you exactly twelve months later. These months were both the best, but also the worst months of my life. You made me feel so happy in the beginning, but most of the time you made me miserable. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I had to do. Sometimes I regret it, but I’m starting to be happy that for once, I chose myself.
When we were together, I forgot everything around us. You were all I saw. But now that you’re gone, it’s like I didn’t even live the past two years. You were all I knew.
What if you died right now? This thought randomly popped up in my head a few minutes ago. What if you left this world and we ended on bad terms? I don’t think I could continue with my life knowing you left this world while hating me.
My heart hurts and my eyes are sore from crying. And it hurts even more knowing you don’t care at all. It’s been a few months and you seem to be happier than ever, without me. What does that say about me?
Friday nights hurt the most. These nights, when all my friends are going out, I’m stuck crying in my bedroom because I can’t get over you. I spend my nights reliving all of our good times; our bodies intertwined in bed and the laughter we shared on our days out in the city. How did it get this far?
I hate feeling like an option until someone better comes along. I will never be the first choice and it makes me feel so inferior to anyone else. Why does no one pick me first?
I want to get over you but at the same time I don’t. I don’t want to be over the memories we shared. I don’t want to forget the feeling I got when you looked at me with your bright eyes. I don’t want you to turn into a stranger again.
In movies they always show couples breaking up, the people going through a short period of heartbreak with sad songs and tears, and being over it a couple days later. They never show how long the heartbreak period is. I’ve been stuck in bed crying for two months now and it doesn’t seem to get any better. It’s not cute or edgy, it’s painful and it hurts like hell.
I’ve always wanted to see more of the world. You took my hand and showed me new places and took me on adventures. I went out of my comfort zone, but I always had you beside me to hold my hand. I will always be thankful for that, because I will never forget our adventures together.
They say we accept the love we think we deserve. Perhaps that’s the reason why I end up with a broken heart. Because maybe that’s what I think I deserve.
The two months without us talking felt like a century but I’m still right there where you left me. I’m still very much in love with you and I can’t picture my future without you. What am I to do now?
It’s not fair that he got to move on so quickly while I’m still stuck here trying to pick up the broken pieces he left me with.
