I realize that the love I deserve is much larger than the love you reluctantly hand out. And I’m tired of compromising, I’m tired of telling myself that it’ll get better, because I know that it won’t. I have searched for the answer in myself, and I know it.
I should’ve known the moment I saw the way you look at her.
She won’t pick up your pieces. She can’t fix you, you are broken beyond repair and you look for surrogates to hold your pain but you will never understand how it feels to conquer the sinking of your heart. She can’t help you, because she won’t. She doesn’t care. She never will.
I refuse to sit by and watch you allow yourself to be captivated by a lost cause because she is. And you are.
I am in awe at your ability to break those who have faith in you. Those who would go to the end of the world to save you. Those that would never doubt you. I am in awe at your ability to spite them.
You refuse to think of consequences, life is just a game, and you don’t know what to do or what to say. I’m not the only one that’s tired of your need to break those who would sacrifice for you. I am stranded with the ache of your confusion, and I know that my heart cannot contain your restlessness.
However, I’m shocked at my ability to feel the need to rescue you. Forget rescue you, rescue myself. Being around you was enough to make me let my guard down, to give up all thoughts of sense, to give up every emotion I had worked so hard to compress.
Why am I not capable of understanding that you can’t fix me? It’s not just you. No one can fix me. I cannot allow you to be a stepping stone to the goal of my survival. I am not a half that needs to become whole. I am already complete.
Everyone I’ve ever loved has been a way for me to fix myself. I have seen my pain as a beautiful tragedy, and love as my bitter remedy. I’ve realized now that if I keep my heart open, the price I’ll have to pay will consume me. Even the broken pieces of my mind and soul will turn to dust eventually. And after years of searching for the answer to my emptiness, I know it now.
You cannot be wrapped in a whirlwind of intense amour if you aren’t besotted with the complete being that you are.