Time–you count it because of fear or love. I count 2.5 years of mourning–the first 3 months of missing him were hell–so are the last 3.
There are not enough words to describe the callousness of his nature and not enough to describe the emptiness either it caused. The necessary descriptives elude me, I think. I’ll try anyway…
Scooped out–like someone hollowed the pit of my stomach.
Terrified–in shock and isolation.
Confused, betrayed, lost, abandoned, stupid, foolish, unhappy.
Yet, I miss my friend/not friend. Love/not love.
Liar. User. Coward…and the countdown continues.
Just so you know: I’m irreplacable.
You keep lying and I’ll keep counting.
1…until his heart breaks…2 until his heart breaks…3 until his heart breaks…4 until mine heals…5 until mine heals…6…7…
You asked who I am–I told you.
You asked me what I wanted–I shared with you.
You asked me how I feel…You asked how I feel…and…You asked me how I feel–I think I showed you.
I’m sure I showed you when,
I shared with you.
I opened up to you.
I laughed with you.
I suffered with you.
I cried for you–I cried with you.
I played with you.
I offered myself to you, over and over.
I trust you. I TRUSTED you.
Submission is a gift wrapped in trust.
Look for me inside of you, beside you, around you. I’m there because you asked me to.
Because, I wanted to.
I want to.
Did you forget? You wanted me there too.
My gift is TRUST.