That puzzle piece

Felt like one bad episode destroyed everything I would only dare to dream of.

I woke up missing you the other day.

I could be anything you wanted but I’m such a good girl in your eyes that it may have only crossed your mind. There was something about you that got me feeling my highest high which led to one of my lowest low. Unfortunately, I let that consume me.

You made me feel like I had a chance at finding the kind of love I always envisioned myself to be in, and I can’t tell you how much I hate it; I hate how long it took me to realize that I deserve more than what I would settle for. I’m also beginning to understand what you were trying to have me understand. I finally got it figured out now and as much as I wanted to see where this could take us, I can’t do it without you.

You know I prayed for you to keep the good in mind; didn’t work – I’d like to believe we were both not ready for each other. I recognized the issue and wanted to back off a little too late, because that was when you chose to pull away completely.

Coming to terms with the fact that we may be able to fit like a puzzle piece, only to find out that we are a piece from a different picture.

You didn’t deserve it. I overestimated our connection and compatibility so this is on me. I so badly wanted it to be you. You probably knew that I gave you all there is to me because I took you too damn seriously. There was nothing left of me when you left but we can’t discredit the fact that you helped build me back up, so thank you for that.

It hurt like a fucking bitch, for I never had you even when I thought I almost did. Good job though you played it so well and you would think I didn’t know – but… “I’ll let you drag me to hell if it means you’ll hold my hand”.

That’s how much I liked you.

You were on a damn pedestal and I believed every word you said, I still do although you have since stepped down from where I had placed you.

You deserve the peace I couldn’t give to you previously so this is goodbye. Happy birthday, darling.

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