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.