"Will you ever find true love?" She asked. I replied, "not in this lifetime."
"I know that my track record is shit, but I really do love you."
"Yeah, well, I hate you."
"No you don’t."
"No. No, I don’t."
I finally gave up. My trust was running thin and my brain created images that I had never seen. I was breathing heavily it wasn’t heavenly. The weight became so heavy. I felt like I had been running and I was. I was running from the truth. From you. From the mental abuse. The words you so gently used so I could consume. I was furious and agitated. I became aggressive and aggravated. I was shutting down and I didn’t know how to rejuvenate. Our emotions weren’t compatible and our love didn’t reciprocate. Finally, I had the courage to say I was done with you, once and for all. But it was all false. Finally, I’m writing something about it because I’ve had this locked inside for so long. I was hoping this feel would have been lost. I thought it would fade. I thought it would lose it’s color and the image would deteriorate. But somehow it maintained to look exactly the way I left it to be. A beautiful tragedy in a glass case. Where it stays safe.