“I told you to never do it again. But you went ahead and did it anyways. You crept back in like all the other times before. You made me believe that it was really love that I endured. But as I sit here silently aching and crying inside it’s the stress and emotional drain I felt. This moment has taught me that it’s time to let go because it’s taking a toll. There’s no reason for keeping it tonight. It’s meant to be told. That the feelings you gave me were warnings and signs. That it wasn’t meant to be.”

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

I haven’t been listening to myself. I understood that the blame wasn’t them, but it was really me. It’s not that I didn’t love them enough. I truly did more than I ever noticed. Because I did not love myself. I was not listening to myself. I kept hurting me. It wasn’t them. It was me. I thought I knew it all until I laid there realizing it wasn’t them that made me feel this way. I was doing it to myself. I should have listened.

You don’t know what it’s like to understand yourself at a certain point. To lay there and realize you have no control over your emotions. That you try to find a reason. But there isn’t any. When you search for the answer, you pick any that currently works. But realistically none of them do.

The stress I put on myself has done its job and I’ve fallen victim. Shit, sucks. But you just let your body do its thing. I guess this is what it feels like when someone could be mentally sound, but not mentally or physically capable of self-control – if that even makes sense.

I guess it’s just a waiting game at this point.

It’s just you and me. Body, Soul, Heart, and Mind.


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