Tag: heartbreak

coward

I thought there was something wrong with me.

Perhaps my thighs were a bit more padded than you were accustomed to,

and you didn’t like the heavy weight when I sat in your lap.

Maybe it was that one time you seemed annoyed I had dirtied your glasses

and you though I wore to much makeup.

Coincidentally, I might not have looked the same in person as I do online

and you thought the girl in pictures was prettier, and I wasn’t worth your time.

Unfortunately, we were busy and it was hard to coordinate dates

and you thought it could never work in the long term.

I wonder if I was to slow to open up to you

an you thought you were wasting your time.

Or, possibly, I attached too much (when I finally let myself)

and you thought that was scary, and wanted to retreat.

Finally, flesh on flesh for a night

and you had finally gotten what you wanted (or had you?).

Maybe it was too fast, or I was too slow, or or or or or or or or or ……. a million other things.

 

and I thought there was something wrong with me, but I’ve realized you were just a coward too afraid to say goodbye.

evasive

What is love but a sentiment that seems to evade most of humanity?

Intertwined in the basis of all our lives, it is also something we happen to leave out the most. It is invisible in our most obvious actions – but underlying in our intentions.

I should have liked to fall in love, had I believed myself capable of such depth and vulnerability.

But the strongest hearts are the hardest to break through (at least that is what I tell myself). Perhaps, instead, it is my weakness that forces me to safeguard myself – for fear that I might break.

Either way, a great emotion pains me to think, to feel, to be (or not to be) who I am.

Parachute

Falling in love with you was like jumping out of a plane – with one too many parachutes.

 

I had never done it before, the exhilarating rush of the fall caught my breathe at first.

 

But then I began to worry about when to pull the shoot. Afraid to fall, afraid to hit the ground too hard, I pulled up too fast.

 

When I kept falling, I thought something had gone wrong, so I pulled open another chute.

And another.

And another.

 

At each milestone I began to fall slower.

 

13,000 feet – still going strong, but controlled. You asked me to be your girlfriend after months of summer lovin’.

 

10,000 feet – you take my breath away, slower. The first few dates, managing long distance. Facetimes and text messages, late at night.

 

8,000 feet – I feel the anxiety pumping in my veins, I pull the reins. After the “I love you”s lose their glamour. Do I?

 

5,000 feet – losing sight of where we came from, looking to where we’re going. Texts and calls less frequent, I’m looking towards my future – with or without you.

 

3,000 feet – I can see the ground beneath my feet, the end in sight. A spring break vacation spent with your family, tensions high. We fight behind closed doors in a cold Northern state, far from home.

 

1,000 feet – this is it, make it or break it, fear in our hearts of what will happen. We know it will soon be over. A bad taste in our mouths when we kiss, the passion isn’t there. You don’t say “I love you” quite like you did before.

 

0,000 feet – my feet slam onto the ground. I’m on my own, but I’m alive. The excitement is over, but this is when I truly start living. You ask me if I love you, I’m scared, but I say “I love you, but I’m not IN love with you.” I feel broken, yet alive.