Seasons

Seasons

I don't very often give people the sledgehammer to break down the concrete walls around my maximum security guarded heart, but I made the mistake of fully and wholeheartedly having faith in someone that still hasn't forgiven themselves for previous misgivings. Someone that doesn't love themselves enough to understand that love isn't as one-sided as they think. See love- isn't as dark as you make it out to be. Love isn't solely a fight- a heartbreak that reversely leads to content. See you have some shit backward! And to think that my kindness was offered to you on a silver platter with the best of fucking intentions, but you wanted to look at the menu again. So I served you trust! And wide smiles, hearty laughs! a small gift... And some of the best slivers of me, fresh cut.

But even as I fully whetted your appetite and held your interest, like a spoiled child you refused the plate saying "I'm hungry, but I want this saved for later".

I've always only ever felt safest with people on bound pages, you know the ones that can never really hurt you, the ones that understand you more than you understand yourself. Why? Because people are cruel and people can easily be consumed by hatred. People have perfected the craft of hurting. And there is nothing more dreadful than that panging, that consistent throbbing pain knocking at the door of my heart. An open wound with all the salt thrown in.

Hurt! Some individualized, neatly packaged messy cuts of hurt, distributed to us forgotten people! The words thrown in arguments are bloodied knives that are often used by half-washed hands attached to the shallow bodies of people that each thinks that their own, are always clean.

Guess you clearly have your shit backward because no one has ever shown you the right way forward. And I tried, believe me, I tried I did! But I think your mind is so far gone, that you'd rather see me beg for your love when that simply isn't going to happen.

Take your silver platter! You can have all those nights of memories and warm conversations where you felt safest back! I don't want them. You can cut the sad reject narrative, the I'm not good enough, no one ever loved my attitude. I don't want to hear about your sad evil ex stories anymore. You can have them. Love is a two-way street. Growth with yourself before growth with someone else.

I wasn't asking you to marry me, I just didn't want to share you.

You can take it all back because I don't want the very memory of you to mess with me any longer.

This isn't goodbye, this isn't revenge, this isn't hatred or embarrassment, and it damn well isn't a tell-all novel. This is just one of the few mistakes I made that I can add to my list of things I don't call regrets, but what I like to think about as the seasons of change.

And when later came, you only took a bite.

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