Naïveté

What we had together wasn't beautiful. It wasn't supportive. It wasn't love. It was hell. And we didn't let each other forget it. Why did it last for so long, some ask? Because with the pain came real emotion. When it ended, I didn't cry because I missed him. I cried because I missed feeling. Yet I was so naive and "in love" that I didn't realize it then. I would have come crawling back to him if he had asked at the time. But only because I was tricked by the illusion that he could patch up my shattered heart. But you see, that figurative tape of his wasn't tape at all. It was a rope. And if I had let him, he would have tied that rope around my broken heart like a leash. And I was too naive to feel him tugging every which way, screaming at me to do things right for once. As I think of this now, I don't know what stopped me from going back. I have this hunch that it's because a tear from my crying heart slipped into my blood stream and travelled throughout my body, letting every inch of me know that I was in pain, and eventually ended up in my brain. Then there was that typical heart versus mind junk that went on (though I think that saying is ridiculous). My point is, something clicked and I suddenly realized how stupid I was to think he could fix me when it was him who broke me in the first place. Of course, ice cream and movies and friends got me through it, but what really fixed me was this realization.

To you: I won't hold anything against you; it will do neither of us any good. In fact, I hope you've had a wonderful life thus far.