WantingToBeRemembered

How can you be happy without me? That’s what I’d like to know, after all those times you said that I was your everything. How can you walk away from the wreck that was us unscarred while I’m still lying in the twisted frame of what we used to be?
Were you lying to me when you showered me with your affections? Or could it be that I was simply too much of a dreamer. I wanted a perfect love so badly that maybe I imagined it. Maybe we weren’t so great, and you weren’t so good to me, and I wasn’t oh so happy.
But the pain is real. That’s the thing about pain; it can’t be imagined. There is no such thing as fake pain. Pain is such a personal thing, and I think that it feels different for each of us. That’s why no one can truly understand how we feel.
I miss your arms wrapped around my waist, and how sweet your breath felt against my skin. Your kisses like honeydew on my lips, and your body as warm and comforting as a smoldering fire.
But those memories are nothing but cobwebs now, and all I’m left with are the words you said when you left.
“There’s more to me than us.”

PointOfNoReturn

Life has the uncanny ability of making you feel you made the wrong decision. All of the sudden, temptations of incredible proportions rise; new details you’ve been trying to avoid appear out of nowhere and confront you head on. You do your best to overlook a nuance, to identify a feature that could daunt you from returning and to escape the things that remind you of why you’re now in this new point. But it seems like a trickery, a hapless attempt. The farther you are, the greater the distance spanned, the stronger the pillars should be.  Or else all that weight in the middle, between the point of saying no and the point of opening a new door, will collapse.