Last time I had my heart broken, I was 14. Looking at it now, I'm asking myself how the hell did I survive that? This helpless feeling of not being able to ever heal, I remember. I just don't remember what I did to overcome it. It's kinda funny. How did a 14 year old survive heartbreak but a 27-year-old doesn't know where to start when it comes to healing itself?
I thought I brought a lot to the table but I just learned that it will never be enough to make anyone stay. Table or no table, if they want to be there - they'll be there. They'll stay. They'll stay and eat on the floor if it means they get to eat with you.
I've been told that his decisions have nothing to do with me... and yet. I still find myself blaming myself for letting it get this far. I had so many opportunities to leave. So many red flags that I just kept on ignoring and trying to justify them to make it work. I also know I deserve so much better but I'm also disappointed with myself for still caring and still fantasizing about this working out. Some days can be so easy and some days are really hard. I can't even listen to music the same way.
I hate myself for giving a part of myself to you. Now I gotta look at her in her eyes and see she's had half of me.