The Last Teardrop
I refuse to cry over you anymore.
done.
a tear drop, full of pain, sadness, and heartbreak,
no more tears, i refuse to cry over you anymore.
tired of listening to familiar songs, trying to keep memories alive,
memories that aren’t there,
tired of giving my attention to someone who doesn’t care.
i need to move on as you have, said with a bittersweet smile
12pm, the last tear i will ever shed for you.
how could i love someone who has done nothing but break me,
broken, beaten, and bruised
tired of constantly taping and gluing my heart back together,
just for it to be shattered once more.
countless years of friendship, many years of love, but today i will finally move on.
today will be the last day i cry over you,
today will be the last time i beg for you to stay,
i refuse to allow you to continue to use me.
saying all the right things, everything i want to hear, but yet actions speak differently,
there is no more tape and glue left, as i have pieced my heart back together for the last
and final time.
Not for you, for me.
i refuse to allow my thoughts to keep me up at night,
playing out scenarios i know will never happen,
constantly asking myself questions, longing to ask you for the answers
when really i knew i just wanted an excuse to talk to you.
i deserve more, i deserve better.
taking this heartbreak as a lesson,
i will continue to grow and blossom,
like the baby rose that i am.
my blessing in disguise was you leaving.
will you even miss me as i leave you,
do you even care?
will you miss my smile, laughter, sarcasm, the way my curiosity gets the best of me,
will you miss the arguments that we were so famous for, the way we snuck our feelings into our messages for us to only understand.
will you miss it, my lips, my hands, my eyes,
or have you already begun to forget.
you are a tornado that crashes into my life suddenly and unexpected destroying
everything in its path yet i still chose to keep you around.
i kept you for all the wrong reasons,
fooling myself into believing the false, edited memories i have chosen to remember you by,
forgetting all the hurt and anguish you have caused me.
love has made me blind, and now i have been blessed with the gift of sight.
a teardrop, shed by the one who loved unconditionally,
the last and final one,
sliding down the warm, soft cheeks,
onto the now unfamiliar lips that once kissed you so passionately.
the last teardrop, shed by the one who refuses to continue to be broken.
About the Creator
Amanda Ante
"To write means more than putting pretty words on a page; The act of writing is to share a part of your soul with the world."
amandaante.wordpress.com
Keep reading
More stories from Amanda Ante and writers in Poets and other communities.
Being Grateful
I cannot tell you how great it feels to hit that “Write” button after so many months of having a mental creativity block. Recently I was inspired to recreate the look of my blog and, when I did, I remember how I felt when I first created it…optimistic and motivated. Writing again, I feel as if I am in my comfort zone, sitting in front of my brightly lit computer screen at roughly 3 AM, listening to the clicking and typing of my keyboard, pouring out all my thoughts and feelings that have been kept inside of me for these past four months and, let me tell you, it feels amazing. As I am sitting here, trying to think about what I could possibly write about next, one thing in particular hits me, it was a conversation I had today with my mom and little brother. See let me start from the beginning. Growing up, I was extremely outgoing, friendly, and not one shy trait in me, basically carefree, but as I got older I became more conservative and really cared about what people thought of me. See growing up in Rosedale is pretty difficult, because a majority of my friends lived in large homes, had extraordinary birthday parties, and had a large selection of material objects you wish you could have, but realistically you know you cannot, so you say and do things to help you fit in. I was one of those children. See in fourth grade, I had a crazy, active, creative imagination. I kept my parents away from the school because little did they know, I was living a double life during school hours. I wasted a school year telling my friends I had my own Build-A-Bear workshop, McDonalds, and ferris wheel all in my larger than a millionaire's house backyard. Everyday during groups, everyone would lean in close to hear my stories about how I got to travel and I made so many friends…. I was the center of attention. Then, one day, my mom showed up at the school to surprise me and well, you can probably guess what happened… “Oh my gosh, are you Amanda’s mom? Can we go to your house? I want to build a bear! I want chicken nuggets! I want to ride the ferris wheel!” and let me tell you, I will never forget the look on my mom's face. As a child, you don’t know any better than just wanting to make friends and wanting to fit in, but that look on my mom's face made me feel ashamed and I knew exactly what I did was wrong. As you get older, you just stop caring about what people think and you start living your life, because, in reality, people are going to reject you no matter the choices you make. Looking back, I didn’t have to lie, we lived in a beautiful gated community with a home that my parents built together from scratch. We take these things for granted and we don’t realize we have these things until they are gone. It’s sad how society can turn an 8-year-old girl insecure about things she already has, but doesn’t realize it. I now see this happening in my youngest brother who is 12. Although, I started lying at a younger age, I can tell he doesn’t want us around as much as he used to. The idea of my parents and I coming to his school events makes him cringe and he slowly slips away. He stops giving us the school event papers and he doesn’t get excited for future days like his 6th grade party, Bulldog day, and graduation. He could still be lying and embarrassed, kind of like I was when I was younger, but that might not be the case here. I guess his friends at school believe it's uncool and weird to bring your family to family events like open house and things like that, and it’s sad, ya know? Society ruining my little brother's head like that… he is the last baby in the family, the last child for my parents to watch grow up. You may not believe me when I say his friends say these things, but we’ve been attending this elementary school for 15 years and the attendance rate for tonight’s open house was the lowest my mom and I have ever seen… and we’ve been to every single one, since 2002. Going back to the conversation that influenced me to write today, I found myself holding back tears as I explained to my brother that my biggest regret was not appreciating my parents being as involved in my life as they were. My parents showed up to every school event, or at least tried to, to the best of their ability, and now here I am, going to be 20-years-old next year, wondering where time went and realizing the only family event I get to look forward to is my college graduation. I no longer get to walk my parents around campus to show them my classrooms, my handmade art projects my teacher hung on the walls, my own desk I kept so clean with my FREE educational books. I no longer get to show them my Valentine’s day boxes, my AR reading goals, or take them to my Honor Roll Banquets. I am still a child to those who are older than me, but in reality, I am not. I just hope he and other kids realize… time flies. Don’t be ashamed of yourself or your family. You can feed into the ways of society and your friends, but remember this… “Friends come and go, but family is forever.”
By Amanda Ante6 years ago in Families
Midnight
60 seconds… 59 seconds… Time was slipping through his fingers, though he clawed at the falling grains of sand, he could not stop the hourglass from flowing. Around him, the silence was deafening. He had taken over every screen in the command centre, putting the terrible seconds before the terrified eyes of his friends and comrades.
By Alexander McEvoy3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.