i hated you

but i loved you.

you made me the person

i am today.

you hurted me

but i hurted you too.

i never wanted to admit my wrongs

just like you never wanted to admit your deceitfulness.

you made me stronger.

i wanted to die because of my love for you

that was torn between hatred and passion;

and you wanted to kill me one more time

because i wouldn't let you go.

i was lost, i was weak, i was alone.

but in this loneliness,

i learned that what seems to be the end is no the end.

i learned that i was stronger than what you made me believe.

i learned that i could love again and be happy,

even if you were not the one by my side.

i no longer need to remember the sound of your voice to fell asleep.

i no longer need your touch on my skin to feel reassured.

i no longer need my delusions of you to keep myself together.

.......

i no longer crave your presence because i am finally happy and in love.

Weren’t you just the most pitiful thing. You make me sick. No one; not your sister, your friends, no one knew about how you laid upon your death bed, with life going on just beyond the prison of your mind. You didn’t hear the children next door playing Marco Polo in their pool, or the song of the nightingale. The books by your bedside were screaming to be read but you knew you couldn’t see the words, and you didn’t even have the strength to turn the pages anyway.

So they say, depression is real, but was that the case with you? Oh cry me a river. Just because he broke up with you is that any excuse for you to believe your life is over? Why couldn’t you get up out of those dirty sheets, walk over the tear stained tissues you threw on the floor and out of that musty dusty bedroom. You could have at least opened the window and thought for a nanosecond as you breathed in the honeysuckle that life would once again be worth living. But no. There you lay. Until.....

I don’t even remember how long you laid there. Was it five days, five weeks, five months? Does it matter? Because today as I think about you ten years ago, I don’t even know who you are. When did I fall in love with myself? All that matters now is that whoever that me was back then....honey we are divorced. It’s a beautiful thing to fall in love with oneself.

Then, I grieved

For my flesh intact.

A trial of desperation and rage.

And shame.

Love suddenly dammed, damned, and now no where to flow,

flooded.

Destroying what once I was.

Screaming, screeching, decaying.

I sank.

I didn't swim.

I relished the exquisite self-harm of drowning.

But I was washed ashore.

There is no cure. Even time has not

Healed

As they promised it would.

But the bleeding has staunched.

My hearts blood contained

So I could stumble on.

And I am happy now. In spite of that cut,

And many more like it.

A veteran of a dozen battles.

I'm now at peace with my wounds.

My god, I was such a fool then. She was my first love and I didn't really know how things should go down; it took me such a long time to see that our love isn't mutual, and once I understood that I realized just how blind I actually was. The mist was gone, and the truth was clear: the rumors started flowing in and my gut knew that everything I've heard is kinda true.

What pained me the most wasn't that she cheated me with one of my close friends, or that our relationship was built on so many lies, it pained me that I couldn't break free; I was fighting this inner battle, where one side was fool in love ready to forgive and forget, and the other side was bent on leaving forever and never speak another word with her.

It was agonizing. I couldn't sleep, or eat, of to focus on anything. I thought it was the end for me, that the madness will eat me alive..

Ten years are gone. Now, I chuckle every time I remember the pain. I chuckle every time I see my Wife, every time I wake up next to her, every time I play with our kids. With her, everything is so easy and natural, even the occasional fights.

Don't want to sound cheesy, but with her, every day is a day in Heaven.

This is me
I'm much more complicated
than what you see.
Like a book I have a cover
like my smile
that conceals the pages,
the chapters I hide inside.
I act as if I'm the most
confident,
when my walls
are crumbling.
I walk as though
I have walked
through many storms
like this.
When I see him across
the street
I wither away into
a nothingness-
I'm not good enough
Not pretty enough
Not perfect.
The scars plastered
on my arms
remind me of my strength
although the voice in my mind
tells me otherwise.
Through churning waters
I struggle to swim,
I'm barely floating.
Stopped eating to make
myself happy,
was I?
Locked myself behind doors
to cry endless tears
over someone who didn't care
let alone even knew
what I was worth.
Who am I?
Not good enough
Not pretty enough
Not perfect.
Just a girl who
wanted to be happy.
Who changed for a world that
never dared to change
for her.
A girl who gave her all
to those who came
into the chapters
she was writing,
but left even when she begged
for them to stay.
I'm breaking inside
don't you see?
I'm much more complicated
than how I seem
but I sit in the bathroom stall
trying to breath,
trying to hold on -
trying to find someone
to help me.
No one will realize
when I'm gone
because I'm the girl
who always laughs
the one who's happy
intelligent,
even beautiful
to all the others
but still doesn't see it in herself.
Not good enough
Not pretty enough
Not perfect
is what she repeats.
This is the girl who can't
hold on anymore.
This is me.