We Could’ve Been.

I’m sorry for thinking we were something more. When conversations can feel so good one second and turn sour the next. When a few moments of bliss become reminders of something special i thought we had. When thinking about it makes me realize how deluded I was into thinking this could be it – this could, last a lifetime. Maybe I was overly obsessed over this – the idea of it, the perfection of it – like how many others are disillusioned and deceived by true love.

Being comfortable, feeling confident. Why do you tear others down? Why are you so condescending? Is it that difficult and that demanding of you to explain to me so that i can understand what’s going on in your brain? Giving in eventually, and then when you realize you’re actually wrong – hah, that happened a countless times – but I just let it go, not say anything; unlike you. Despite all that, despite knowing the truth, my insistence and ignorance cloud what is actually right there in front of me. Sweeping things under the rug, and just saying ‘whatever‘ has become a habit of shield over the years.  Was there ever a time when you did not treat me as convenience?

I feel. so. used. The change i see. The change i see in you, it’s so drastic. What exactly do you take me for? Am i just your plaything, an object you play with when you’re bored, thinking that I’m emotionless – taking all your bullshit in without ever retaliating?

I feel. so. sick. Of trying to prove something. What is there to prove, anyway? Why do i feel the need to prove to someone else when I am my own person? Why do i feel so conflicted and conscious over this when it didn’t bother me at all previously?

I still don’t get it. I don’t think I’ll ever will. How can something so right, feel so wrong at the same time?

I’m sorry for feeling this way.

It’s a pity I’m even sorry about this. It’s a pity how I used to think that we could be something more.





We Could’ve Been.

One thought on “We Could’ve Been.

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