empty chambers of my broken heart.

I know what I felt, I was in love.

It felt like a beautiful dream, then it turned into a nightmare.

It was a month of constant complete closeness, I felt a future growing between you and I.

Turns out, I was wrong.

On your accord, it all came to a stand still.

I said I’d wait patiently, but I didn’t know it wouldn’t resume after all.

You said you didn’t want to kill off what we had built, I believed you.

Two months of uncertainty and distance went by… then one night, in a message, you told me you just wanted to be friends.

We used to voice chat constantly. I wish that would’ve been said over a call.

I felt myself split in two and have cried a waterfall of tears since.

I really hung on every word you said before all this, up until that message.

Your timing of this confession was truly awful, considering the death of my cat only 5 days before.

I don’t like getting attached to people. But I felt safe. I trusted you.

I know it doesn’t matter to you, and you won’t read this because you probably don’t look at my social media or this blog anymore.

And even if you do, you probably won’t reach out to me. This isn’t something you’re willing to entertain anymore.

But with you I just felt… alive. I felt seen by you. It felt like life made sense. It felt like there was a purpose to wake up to every day. I found a dream within someone else again. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

You meant the world to me. I would’ve done just about anything for you.

I never got to feel you, but you lived in my heart regardless.

I thought one day that we’d see each other, be together, face to face.

I thought there was going to be a “you and I” after it all.

But it all slipped away.

I guess I was the fool who held onto hope for too long while you left me behind without me knowing.

Like Icarus, I flew too close to the sun and now I’m burning in the light.

.

.

.

In all of my anger and sorrow now,
I still hope you get what you want in this life.

I’m just alone when I say I wish it was me you wanted.

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These are the musings of a 31 y/o dreamer, wisher and doer. All my posts are authentic; I write what's in my heart.

One thought on “empty chambers of my broken heart.

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