I’m Still Incredibly Grateful For You, Even Though It Hurt.

“Oh, I’m in pieces, it’s tearing me up, but I know A heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved.” – Ed Sheeran 

I wish I didn’t still look at you like you’re one of the best things that had ever happened to me.

I wish I didn’t still look at you with such eyes full of admiration.

I wish I didn’t walk into every place secretly hoping you’d be there, as I do a double take in every mirror looking past strangers, looking for one familiar face in a crowd.

I wish I didn’t still think you were the most handsome person I’ve ever seen.

Even if there are people more attractive. Even if I have their undivided attention and they are into me, they just don’t do it for me the way you did.

The truth is, you taught me that attraction isn’t just about what someone looks like, it’s about this emotional connection. 

It’s about someone’s mind and how they make you think and learn and grow.

It’s that person that just makes you see things differently.

The person that makes you a better version of yourself.

Everyone else seems like noise compared to you and what you brought to the table.

It’s in certain moments it just hits me, you’ll always mean so much more to me than anyone else.

And even with the pain you’ve caused or maybe I’ve inflicted upon myself clinging to things based on unjustified feelings, I still look at you like I’m the lucky one.

I heard it’s been said if you hurt someone and they still look at you in the exact same light as they did before, if they still talk to you with excitement and respect you, it’s love. 

Maybe unrequited love is something all too familiar, I’ve learned to cling to.

The honest truth is, maybe I shouldn’t feel the way I do. Maybe my friends will always be the ones disliking you on my behalf. But I could never even if I tried.

Part of me tries to play it cool like you didn’t ever mean that much. But you are the most real thing that’s happened in my life lately.

I keep trying to deny how hard I’ve fallen or how much it hurt but no matter how brave of a front I can put up, I still turn my head sharply when someone says your name. My heart still races really fast when someone mentions you.

If you asked me tomorrow how I really felt, I’d only lie if that was something you want from me.

But I’m over here posting stories hoping it’s your name I see. I’m over here posting pics hoping maybe for a like. And I know it’s silly buying into all of this. But I have.

I don’t know when it all happened, but one day I just woke and I realized it’s you. It’s always been you.

I don’t try and play coy or follow any rule I’m supposed to. It’s every like. Every view. Every answer when maybe I should be a little more subtle or care less. But I’ve never been someone who is good at that sort of thing. I don’t know how to teach a heart like mine not to care.

If there was a switch for turning my heart off, maybe I would.

The truth is, before you came into my life I was so afraid to feel anything at all. You woke a heart long afraid to feel anything too deeply. Adding light to a soul that knew darkness, giving a voice to someone who became comfortably numb with silence. Uttering three words that tasted bitter and unfamiliar rolling off my tongue. But with you, it was okay.

For the first time in a long time, “I love you” didn’t need to be followed by “I’m sorry.”

While many fear heartbreak and shut themselves off to pain. I truly believe even when you get hurt and you feel things heavier than you ever thought you could, there’s beauty to it.

I believe it’s only when you respect pain do you get everything good on the other end of that spectrum which is love and happiness, and that makes it truly worth it.

There’s beauty to someone making you feel things that deeply. How much you hurt will always be an accurate depiction of how much someone meant to you. And if asked, I wouldn’t trade the pain for the world because that would have meant I was taking away every good thing that led to it.

You Used To Care.

You used to call me back immediately even if it was just a butt dial I didn’t intend for. 

You used to answer texts so quickly I never questioned it.

You used to blow up my phone and news feed. Your name was always my favorite to see.

Your compliments were always genuine and sometimes I wondered if you noticed me blushing. 

Most guys wouldn’t notice something so small like me doing my hair differently or changing my makeup or if I dressed differently.

You used to invite me places and always be on time.

You used to be every text in the morning and my favorite way to start a day.

I knew in those moments to be grateful. Something in me could feel this would end. How sad it is to live in a moment you know you are going to miss, so you cling as tightly to it as you can hoping it could last just a bit longer.

You used to meet me completely halfway that I never had to try.

You used to say thank you and actually be grateful and surprised and what seemed like happy every time I did something.

You used to love me.

Then suddenly there was a shift.

You stopped saying thank you and started expecting things.

When things were reciprocated, it wasn’t out of being genuine but rather a sense of obligation like you had to. 

You stopped answering quickly then it turned into not at all.

I sat there fumbling to find words in hopes you’d respond. 

I sat there staring at my phone that was supposed to connect us but it made me feel more distant.

And I look back at the past hoping maybe I’ll find something there. A reason for a shift or a change.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve begun to annoy you.

And as much as I want to try harder, I don’t want to push you further away than you already are.

So I stay mute hoping in this silence you’ll miss me like I have you, even when you’re standing right next to me. The truth is, it hurts like hell missing the ghost of who someone used to be.

You used to tell me everything. These days it feels like I’m missing something. Like I’m out of the loop.

So I try a little too hard and overcompensate hoping maybe you notice.

I dress up a little more hoping to feel a little less invisible.

I’m tiptoeing and walking on eggshells because I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing.

But it almost feels like no matter what move I make, it’ll always be something that makes you unhappy.

You used to care and I don’t know how to get back to that place.

All I can do is hold onto a hope that’s fading. And maybe when you find yourself again, it’ll be there you find your way to me again.