I learned you saying “I love you” all the time was your excuse for never having to show it. You put yourself before me most of the time and didn’t tell me things you should have. Out of all my memories of you, in only a few did you show me love and kindness.
Love is not about
how much you say ‘I love you,’
but how much
you can prove that it’s true.
Still I can’t fully understand why you became so mean. I did nothing give you my love and complete self. Once you had me, you suddenly seemed to not care any more. Was it I was not good enough for you, or more likely, you didn’t think you’re good enough for me? My heart still cries “why”. A.K.
Cruelty is a language
that the blind can see,
the deaf can hear,
and the heart feels forever.
Shannon L. Alder
You go to a game when there’s work to be done on our house. We never go out, but you often get drunk with your buddies. You have no ambition. The only job you’re able to keep is in construction. I’m tired of taking care of two kids when one of them is you! B.O.
Most people don’t grow up.
Most people age.
They find parking spaces,
honor their credit cards,
get married, have children,
and call that maturity.
What that is, is aging.
Once we were madly in love and couldn’t keep our hands off one other. Now we hardly talk, we don’t kiss and haven’t made love in months. It seems like the great gift that once was our love has turned into nothing but a burden. How did we let this happen to us?
Love that does not
renew itself every day
becomes a habit
and in turn a slavery.
You should’ve told the complete story about your past, not just part of it. Selective truth is akin to lying. What’s worse is you left me to stumble across the facts that made it hurt far more than if you’d told me from the beginning. Shame on you for hurting me this way. B.E.
I wish I could give you my pain
just for one moment.
Not to hurt you but rather so
you can finally understand
how much you hurt me.
The only thing I learned from loving you is the power it gave you to crush me. Being with you was the most wonderful thing I have ever known, until you didn’t want me any more. I have no idea what changed. What happened? I never knew I could cry so much. You really hurt me! M.S.
Life without you is not life but a nightmare;
A nightmare that eats my skin little by little;
A nightmare that pricks my soul until it feels no more.
Life is not life, without you.
Gary R. Hess
You loved staying up all night and sleeping all day. I preferred going to bed early and rising with the sun. Complete opposites and for a time we were two halves of a whole. Then your behavior got darker as drugs took you over. I had to leave or perish emotionally. D.S.
I love you as certain dark things
are to be loved, in secret,
between the shadow and the soul.
From “100 Love Sonnets” by Pablo Neruda
I want to take back at least half of the I love you’s, because I didn’t mean them as much as the other ones. I want to take back the secrets I told you so I can decide whether to tell them to you again. I want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly miss it. D.L.
You know that when I hate you,
it is because I love you to a point
of passion that unhinges my soul.
Julie de Lespinasse
You constantly got so jealous it scared me. There was no reason. I was always faithful! Why were you always asking others about me, even my family when I didn’t know it? Why did you doubt me so much? My love did not fade, it was trampled to death by your mistrust. E.D.
If you had stayed,
I wouldn’t have been myself.
You made me hurt inside,
Too weak to even ask for help.
If you had stayed,
I’d have given up my dreams
And been your puppet
While you tugged hard at my strings!
By Dreamer Thinker
For six months you were in love with me. Suddenly you left me flat. In the year since there have been two more. Is half a year the longest you can make a relationship work? What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you love and let yourself be loved longer? L.W.
My heart, it was a cup of gold
That at his lip did long to lie,
But he hath drunk the red wine down,
And tossed the goblet by.
My heart, it was a floating bird
That through the world did wander free,
But he hath locked it in a cage,
And lost the silver key.
My heart, it was a white, white rose
That bloomed upon a broken bough,
He did but wear it for an hour,
And it is withered now.
“The Prince” By Josephine Dodge Daskam