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Maybe this is a cliché, but it’s not you it’s me. He was consistently reminding me how selfish I could be, And saying the world steadily revolves around me. I would normally disagree, but with his wisdom he was right. I could never quite get this love thing down right. Never could give him the love he desperately were craving from me, So I started to pretend to be the woman he wanted me to be. Deep down I knew my love simply belonged to me. Years of pretending of what he thought love should be, started only to cripple me. Being his everything selflessly not being able to give myself the love I needed. I was the Red Cross an organization of one, caring for the wounded and the sick. Temporary I am now taking care of the homeless. He began to take my kindness for a weakness; I was saving him as If I was Jesus. Continuing to give him all of my forgiveness’ my feelings began to cave in. No longer wanting to be his prophet this is my confession. I’m definitely selfish; I can now admit my lack of compassion. He losing me it’s only natural to mourn me. He no longer can catch me, I grew my own wings. No more loving arms it’s simply impossible to catch a fallen star. I am the light of a thousand stars, the holocaust of a loss love. Dust in replace of where my heart was. Shrug’s to the rest of the bums. Eternally I am colder than permafrost. Inevitable loss of love imitation of heartbreaks, fore I no longer can relate. He always said my emotions were fake. I could no longer bear to look into his eyes, and tell another lie. Truth is I never knew how to love anyone. Saying, “I love you” could never be genuine. To me it was just an unauthentic ending to a synthetic sentence. As I broke his heart enable to keep him alive. Fore each time I said, “I love you” assassinated him over a million times. I became number one title holder, of a victorious worldwide heartbreaker. He was being an unwilling partaker. To lose a love is worse than any death to have to relive the pain every day. For the rest of his life decomposing starts to crumble his insides. I am clearly not the one for him. As I just begun to love myself being selfish is my only outcome. I can only set him free; therefore I can start to breathe. For once I did what was best for me, hurting him released me. Every day he will mourn the loss of me. May I rest in peace, in memory of what use to be? I am letting go forever I’ll be a concrete rose. Just as easy as the wind blows, I am that stroke. Deadly collisions frostbitten emotions, causing harm to his air current. I played with his heart as if it was an instrument. My selfish ways just couldn’t love him, but only continue to hurt him. So I left him with only my deepest condolences.
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