It’s such an odd feeling
Seeing somebody who once knew every intimate detail of your persona, and you, him.
How can you look at someone
Who once held your heart
And not feel a thing

Save an unsurpassable hollowness
Serving as a reminder that everything is subjective… That sometimes love just isn’t enough.
A clawing inside your chest cuz the demons of your past want to come and play with their old friends.

And the little whispers from behind, begging for emotional relapse, entertaining the thoughts of what if, and maybe.


Some part of me just might always love him, or have love for him at least. But like the part of me that once loved stickball and kickball with the kids on the block, that part of me is not who stands in front of the mirror these days.

It’s refreshing to be able to maintain my resolve… To hold onto my sense of self despite the hold he once had… The ability to be myself around someone who stole the very essence of who I was… And to look at him, not with resentment, but with open eyes and gratitude.

You suck for breaking my heart
But thank you for teaching me how to love.