one of those moments when life seems so much more difficult with me around. I’m sorry B
(Source : heartsofglitter)
*
Fév
24
vacillate
Sometimes I have good nights.
Sometimes I have bad ones.
On good nights, I’m actually proud of myself for being able to let you go. I celebrate and dance to being vulnerable no more. To breakfree from your tormenting twarted ideas of having me right by you- forever; when you never loved me at all.
and on the bad ones, tears still roll down my eyes as I lie in bed at night. I grief to reminisce your presence in my life, the stranglehold of this unconventional yet beautiful relationship we shared. If theres anything I knew for sure, or maybe anything you should know at all; I loved you, so much. You had me- all of me. and I reckon I’m never gonna feel this way about someone, anyone for that matter.
I often wonder to myself how could you bear to hurt me so much when all I ever did was to treat you right. Have you not been hurt darling, don’t you know what it feels like to be all torn up, all damaged inside? don’t you know what it feels like to give it and lose it all?
It probably doesn’t mean much that I’m gone.
But if you do think about me, remember, I loved you Samuel.
I’ve loved you all along…
I ask the impossible: love me forever.
Love me when all desire is gone.
Love me with the single mindedness of a monk.
When the world in its entirety,
and all that you hold sacred advise you
against it: love me still more.
When rage fills you and has no name: love me.
When each step from your door to our job tires you—
love me; and from job to home again, love me, love me.
Love me when you’re bored—
when every woman you see is more beautiful than the last,
or more pathetic, love me as you always have:
not as admirer or judge, but with
the compassion you save for yourself
in your solitude.
Love me as you relish your loneliness,
the anticipation of your death,
mysteries of the flesh, as it tears and mends.
Love me as your most treasured childhood memory—
and if there is none to recall—
imagine one, place me there with you.
Love me withered as you loved me new.
Love me as if I were forever—
and I, will make the impossible
a simple act,
by loving you, loving you as I do
Love me when all desire is gone.
Love me with the single mindedness of a monk.
When the world in its entirety,
and all that you hold sacred advise you
against it: love me still more.
When rage fills you and has no name: love me.
When each step from your door to our job tires you—
love me; and from job to home again, love me, love me.
Love me when you’re bored—
when every woman you see is more beautiful than the last,
or more pathetic, love me as you always have:
not as admirer or judge, but with
the compassion you save for yourself
in your solitude.
Love me as you relish your loneliness,
the anticipation of your death,
mysteries of the flesh, as it tears and mends.
Love me as your most treasured childhood memory—
and if there is none to recall—
imagine one, place me there with you.
Love me withered as you loved me new.
Love me as if I were forever—
and I, will make the impossible
a simple act,
by loving you, loving you as I do
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