Heartbreak has ensued people. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t write about it.
So, love you have proven the cynic in me to be correct. Open your heart, they say. Be yourself. Show weakness. Oh, love? Remember when we met? I was so guarded! I was so easily offended! Why was I so rough? So I could avoid you. So I could see whether your interest would change like the weather.Oh, no love I had the door to my heart closed, but as usual, with time you barged in. So love. We were growing. I was there for you, listening to late night frustrations that you felt about life and circumstances.But now, my sadness. My frustrations. They make me weak. They make me unmotivated. So, now you say love that leaving me will make us both grow. That our love prohibits us both from growing as people. Hmm, but that isn’t love. To leave me when I’m down, and ask me to reconnect when I am up to par. What a cruel joke love has played upon me. No infidelity. Loyalty. Always wanting to be in your company was overbearing? Did I smother you love? To want to be with love is exhausting? So, I can no longer call you love. Because I have not met him. I thought I had. And tonight, instead of dreaming of you, like I used to do, I will think of how happy I’ll be when I finally meet love again. And pray that it stays true, longer, stronger, and better than the four seasons I spent with you.