Do you know what hurts the most?
Ironically, it’s not all the hurtful things that you do.
It’s not the anger, or the criticism, or the ridicule you put me through.
It’s not the indifference, or the contempt, or your neglectful ways.
It’s not the fact that every time I reach out to you, you always push me away.
It’s the way you feel like home to me, and how I long to stay.
It’s all the feelings for you that I bury, that I can’t bring myself to say.
It’s the belief that if I do, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.
Do you remember when we first met? Remember how you never left my side?
Do you remember the peace we shared, before this great divide?
I trusted you without hesitancy. There was nothing I couldn’t confide.
You opened up your heart to me. I saw the pain you always hide.
Do you remember the day you rejected me? Remember how violently I cried?
I professed the love that I felt for you, then I listened horrified.
You shattered my reality, when the depth I felt for you was calmly denied.
I was so confused. I felt so used…
I wished I hadn’t let my guard down for you…
I wanted to take back every part of me that I had shown you…
Pieces of me that only you knew…
Depths of me I kept buried from everybody’s view…
For me, there was only you…
How could you not feel it too?
You were my hope, personified.
When you left I was so devastated that I attempted suicide.
I still carry with me the agony,
I still wish I could go back in time.
To the place where I naively believed,
That I was yours and you were mine.
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