That time.

Don’t fall in love with me.
Don’t let your love for me grow.
Don’t shower me with gifts, or take me out for meals.
Don’t watch my concerts, don’t watch my plays.
Don’t drive me to places I need to be.
Don’t take me to places I need to go.
Don’t stand outside my window and sing songs to win my heart.
Don’t come looking for me.
Don’t get close, and don’t get comfortable.

Because emotional baggage is a difficult thing to let go off,
It will be something you will never hear the end of.

I will cry,
I will weep,
I will speak of my brokenness and my hurt.
I will tell of my pain and my sorrow.
I will not say nice things.

I will curse and swear and scorn the face of the men who have hurt me.
I will be insecure and vulnerable.
I will be difficult to fix.
I will be impossible to save.

I will be bitter.
I will be jealous.
I will be forever in search of a perfect life.
I will not rest until I have full control of my surroundings.
And worst of all,
I will never forget what it feels like when a person breaks you, hurts you, and leaves you,
wants nothing to do with you,
wishes not to know you,
walks away from you,
hides away from you,
and chooses not to contact you,
because it is the closest thing possible
to a life,
a perfect life,
in which you do not exist.

 

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