Break
I told you again and again.
I’m not the guy you want.
I told you again and again.
That my past makes up who I am and I have no intention of changing myself.
But you insist on it so many times, believing in the good that didn’t exist in me, thinking you could fix me to the ideal one in your head.
And I hate it. I loved you, but I hated how you always say things that were always meant to change me, rather than accepting the person I am. I hated the disapproval remarks, expressions you wore at the sight of my unapproved behavior. But I swallowed and tried to please you. But you were never happy.
I don’t think I regretted breaking your heart then, as I packed my bags and went out of that big apartment that you wanted so badly. I don’t think I regretted my actions because I think I knew I wasn’t meant to be yours and you weren’t meant to be mine.
You yelled and screamed, blackmailing in one second and crying in the next. I loved you. But as I hear your cries, I am struck with an realization that you were always pulling the strings behind me, like a little puppet that was showcased to the world.
I knew you love me, dear. But I’m not a puppet and I can’t do this anymore. Because I don’t want you. I want someone to just accept the person I am and loved me the way I was, rather than what I can be to the outside world.
I know you think it was meant good for me. I know you will be heartbroken. I could hear your cries and howling that was filled with pain. And I’m sorry. I’m forever sorry, but as much as I love you, this isn’t my way of living.
I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, the hurt I gave you.
