Casualty War.

My soul was parched, thirsty to be admired, longing to be touched, anticipating meeting yours.

I wish you knew how quickly you derailed my self-esteem, making me constantly wonder what I did so wrong for you to do this to me.

I spent nights praying to the stars, hoping they’d align and gift me with a sign that I wasn’t crazy. That you weren’t like the others. That you’d call when you were ready.

Because I was ready to give whatever I hadn’t given to those who came before. Ready to pour my efforts into whatever relationship you wanted to offer. You were all I wanted on paper. You were the one who ignited the fire in my heart that I thought had long been extinguished.

I consistently kept myself awake overanalyzing all my thoughts. My mind became a highlight reel of all our interactions and the ways I might’ve messed this up. I was too talkative, too eager, too needy. I put my own self on trial for months and ruled myself guilty every time.

Yet, I still clung to the day we met as a sign of hope. You found me somewhere between hurting and healing. Inviting yourself into my life with a simple question: Can I sit here?

There was sincerity in your eyes, a genuineness in your tone, and warmness in your presence. For some reason I felt comfortable around you as we talked the whole bus ride. And it could’ve just been that, but it wasn’t.

I wonder if it was your intention for me to baptize myself in the delusion that is you. Your promises that looked sweet as sugar are now bitter to the taste. I realize now that I was just a casualty in the war you have within.

You see, I would’ve been content with just being your friend. I would’ve been okay had you just told me you weren’t interested. But I wasn’t granted such a luxury. Instead, I saw your name take residence on a list of guys who have broken my heart.

It didn’t stop me from constantly wondering why. It didn’t stop me from picking myself apart, wondering why I wasn’t good enough for you. It didn’t stop me from constantly wishing to hear from you again.

Do you ever revisit the graveyards you build? Does my name ever haunt your soul late at night when you’re left alone to lay with your decisions?

I will be okay because I always have been. I know you are no prize, no one worth diminishing my self-worth for. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I know one day I will.

Closure.

There are many times relationships end and we are left empty. We build all our hopes and dreams around a person we thought would be around for an eternity. So when they leave, we start to wonder where it all went wrong.

I remember when a relationship would end and I’d always want to get clarity on why it ended. I’d be so confused as to what happened or what I could have done differently, I’d literally give myself a headache. So, I’d seek out closure from the guy I was with and most times, I’d be more confused than before.

As human beings, it’s common to wonder why. It’s a question we’ve been asking since we were toddlers. But sometimes there is no why and you have to be okay with that.

Because many times when we ask for closure, the guy doesn’t tell us the truth. He won’t tell the truth because he thinks he’s sparing your feelings. Sometimes he may not even know why himself.

Other times when we seek closure, a guy just tells us what we want to hear. He’ll give a vague answer that’ll leave room to make you feel like there’s a chance you’ll get back together. And instead of moving on, your there holding out on something that won’t ever happen.

If we’re being honest with ourselves, the biggest reason why we think we need closure is because apart of us still wants to be with that person. You think if you talk one last time they’ll still be sparks and you’ll pick up where they left off. But everyone is in your life for a reason and a season. And when the season’s over, we have to keep moving as much as it may hurt us.

Personally, I don’t think that you need to ask the other person for closure. The answer you’re looking for is right in front of you.

When relationships don’t work out it sucks, especially if you really had feelings for the other person, but just think of it as being one step closer to being with who you’re meant to be with.

Closure is you simply taking the time to recognize the relationship for what it is. Appreciate the good times you shared with that person and learn from the negative to know what you want to avoid in the future. So before you unblock that toxic ex to send that long paragraph, don’t do it. The closure you seek is within you.

Living With Your Abuse.

I woke up this morning, turned to my side, and saw you sleeping so peacefully like you do every night. I never dared to make a sound, shifting to my feet slowly, opening the bedroom door with the weakest strength to go to the kitchen and make my coffee, making sure not to wake you. Everything is so peaceful.

As I boil some water, I think to myself that I must be dreaming. When has it ever been this quiet with you? I’m supposed to live my days in a battlefield, screaming at the top of my lungs, crying my eyes out, accepting every punch, every slap, every shove to the ground, every strangle.

Then I breathe. I’m awake, and you being asleep is just the calm before every storm. Why am I not used to this yet?

You wake up and I lay down next to you, eyes half open with a frown on your face. It’s so early. It’s too early. I always have to ask you what’s wrong, and the answer I always get is either a push away. If I’m lucky, it’s only a shrug. But we don’t speak for the next few hours, and during that time, I rack my mind trying to figure out whether I’d said or done something wrong. Maybe the night before, maybe even in my sleep.

Once you’re up, you go about your day as if nothing wrong had been done. How many times have you punched me in your sleep whenever I tried to kiss you? It doesn’t matter, it never did.

We talk, laugh, eat, go out when you want to and as soon as we get back, you scold me. There was something (yet again!) that didn’t sit well with you that came out of me earlier in the day. And I realize, I’m home. Home to the war zone you somehow manage to create every single time. Home to the knives pointed at me, to the words that break my heart into two. I’d choose those knives through me every day, instead of hearing words come out of your mouth that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life. My things flying around the house, yours being packed in a bag, until I gather every ounce of strength I have left in me to beg for you to stay. Even with all the cuts and bruises, I want you to stay.

I might need to kneel, kiss your feet, put my pride down; I’ll do anything for you to stay. And so, you do.

And even after all of that, you take me into your arms, kiss me, and you apologize. And without a shadow of a doubt, I fall into your magic again. Wipe my tears, lay down on your chest, breathe, and I fall asleep to the beat of your heart calming me down.

Until the next morning…