I spent so many hours
Hours asking questions
Does he love me?
Have I earned his affection?
But I never took a moment
A moment to explore,
Were my own feelings real
Or illusion and nothing more
Was he just a comfort
To which I'd become attached
Or was it a deeper connection
To which I'd latched
Could I be tied to him
By a powerful trauma bond
Or was it authentic love
That made it hard to abscond
Sunken cost fallacy, perhaps?
Persuading me to stay
Or a deep appreciation
Making it hard to get away
Maybe the answer
Is me asking questions at all
And these feelings of doubt
Are all I need to make a call
About the Creator
Sanna
I write, I drink coffee, I go on adventures and then write some more.
A Digital Pandemic.
After a long day in the department, Emily dropped her worn and tired dark leather bag on the counter before navigating through the small and disordered kitchen to grab a cold beer from a contrarily empty fridge. She hadn't had a chance to unpack since moving from Newcastle to Glasgow, let alone shop for sustenance, except for cold brews naturally.
By Billie Whyteabout 9 hours ago in Chapters
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