It’s crazy how the same person that can make you feel alive, make the pain feel as if it is completely gone, be the same person who injects the strongest poison into your veins.
You make me feel important, meaningful, like what I’m doing is right. Yet, hold the knife that cuts me in half. You hold the spoon that scoops out the hollowness in my chest. You make me depressed on vacation when you ignore me in order to go out. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea to get this deep. To fall this hard. It’s only going to get worse when we leave.
I let all of my walls down and let you walk in, and it sometimes feels as if though you occupied my home and then abandoned it. Left the grass to grow too long. Left the mold to grow on the roof. Left the pool to turn green. The memories are worth it all, but is it worth the pain? And all I’m left with is an abandoned home.