You believed.

Why did you love me?

Why did you love me when I was naive at nineteen?

Why did you love me when I spoke words that were ever so mean?

Why did you love me when your friends and family did not approve?

Why did you love me whenever I’d push you far enough so your feelings would move?

Why did you love me when you knew that I couldn’t love you?

Why did you love me when you were warned in the beginning that your sanity I’d probably screw?

Why did you love me?

You believed.

You believed that you could soften that troublesome heart of mine.

You believed that I would start to care more after we finished each bottle of crisp red wine.

You believed that you could erase all the countless mistakes that I would perpetually dread.

You believed in us, but sorrowfully we were hanging by a thread.

You believed that I could somehow be the one that God made for you.

You believed that we could have a future together, but I couldn’t make that true.

You believed.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for all the traumatizing wounds that I have ungracefully caused.

For breaking your chivalrous heart, for putting your life on a pitiful pause.

I’m sorry for prolonging your pain as each spring day passed by.

I couldn’t ruminate of a way to bid you a proper goodbye.

I’m sorry for burning the pavement that could have led you to my heart,

I needed to play it safe, so this relationship I had to outsmart.

I’m sorry for not giving you the love that you know you deserve.

I needed to become selfish, so I kept my heart on reserve.

I’m sorry.

Love, T.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s