I Don’t Want It to Be Like That

I don't want it to be this way. I've struggled over the years to let someone in. And I found you by some chance or the grace of God's miracle. I picked you based on a whim and a gut instinct that you had what it took to be with me. I've been vulnerable with you. I showed you a part of me that I can barely look at myself for. And you seem to waltz around like this was never uncharted territory. Like that part of me is nothing special to see. The same ol' same old. Another man to lay with. Another man to score your prison walls with a rock for, as you tally up the amount of bodies you had sex with. A body you call your own as you've forever scarred the brain it came attached with. And you admitted to cheating on others in the past. You did the very act that betrayed yourself and knew had betrayed me, too. I explained myself in the hopes that you'd see me for me. Hoping you would understand the severity of what I chose to show you, chose to give you, only to talk to me like it couldn't have been a big deal. Not an ounce of remorse or a flicker of guilt in your eyes. I don't want it to be this way. I know you've changed since and you haven't betrayed me [yet]. I know you're still working on yourself and trying to be better because you fight your own demons everyday. And I want to believe you'll treat me differently. I want to believe that you'll care for me the way you could have, had you never been hurt before. But for some reason I feel heartbroken and defeated. I feel like I've placed my eggs in the wrong basket. A basket with holes that no one intends on weaving back together because the patch-work warranted buying a new one instead. I want to see this work. And I will do my best to accomplish that. But I don't know when I'll be able to let my guard down. And I don't know when I can just be vulnerable with you or how I'll make it work. I just know that I don't want it to be like that.