I was working my way around to loving myself, but my friends got me excited. I spent so many days just by myself, to meet someone would have been delighting. I didn’t know I was fooling myself hours spent talking, he wasn’t even full of himself but his opinions got me thinking. yeah maybe it wasn’t his fault but time had me wondering, that with the effort made then maybe something would work but I guess that was just my feelings.
I got hurt and it didn’t help that the time I needed to loving myself was time spent on someone else. So not only did he walk away with a piece of my heart that day, he stole some of my body, fragment of my mind, a slice of my care, he stole away parts of the old her. It wasn’t his fault.
I really needed that time to loving myself, loving the things I never celebrated. He got carried away and I lost myself in a place i’d never been in. It wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t help but love him, if only you knew how hard it had been what he had seen, the places he had been. I gave him no pity.
I didn’t think it would amount to this begging back for the days “i’d never laughed so much”, that laughing where tears fell down from smiling.