You appeared to me like a white knight from a childhood tale where lovers live happily ever after. I made excuses about how you treated me badly. You always were exactly the selfish liar you are. It’s all my fault I pretended you were something you are not. R.P.
Every fairytale has a villain.
All high quality happy endings
involve a black-hearted monster.
I just didn’t want you to be mine.
Coco J. Ginger
Sometimes I pretend everything’s alright and my heart’s not broken. When everyone else thinks I’m fine, occasionally I forget for a little while I’m not. I’ll be okay. It will just take time. You don’t deserve the love in my heart. Somehow I will make it go away. A.B.
You will never know true happiness
until you have truly loved,
and you will never understand
what pain really is until you have lost it.
I’ve obsessed over the thought “you don’t know what you had until it’s gone” so much I get sick at my stomach every time I think it. If I could turn back time to before I left, I’d be faithful for always and never leave you. Please take me back Baby. PLEASE!!! A.L.
It’s gonna hurt so bad if you walk away
Why don’t you stay and let me make it up to you
Stay I’ll do anything you want me to
You loved me before please love me again
I can’t let you go back to him
Please don’t go
Please don’t go
From “Hurt So bad” by The Imperials
If inside you was half as pretty as the outside, loving you would have been joyful. Instead you brought little but anguish and pain. It’s as if you think because you are so beautiful you can do whatever you want, when you want. You still can, but without me! S.O.
Most people tend to think
the best of those
who are blessed with beauty;
we have difficulty imagining
that physical perfection
can conceal twisted emotions
or a damaged mind.
I wonder how things might have turned out if we had met now when we are both single instead of back when we were married. The deceit and stress of our affair damned us from the start. Something good is rarely successfully built from doing what is wrong. L.K.
A love affair is like a short story;
it has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
The beginning was easy, the middle might drag,
invaded by commonplace, but the end,
instead of being decisive and well-knit
with that element of revelatory surprise
as a well-written story should be,
it usually dissipated in a succession
of messy and humiliating anticlimaxes.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Bruises, lies, fake smiles, constant cries and a horrifying past. Promises broken, lost loves and the “trust me” that didn’t last. I should have left the first time you hit me. People ask me why it’s so hard to trust anyone and I ask them why is it so hard to keep a promise. T.M.
I’m not upset
that you lied to me,
I’m upset that
from now on
I can’t believe you.
I just realized I haven’t shed a tear over the end of “us” for over a year. I still think of you, but so very slowly, you are fading into memory. Letting you go is the hardest thing I have ever done in spite of how much you hurt me. I’ll never love again like I loved you. J.Y.
Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more.
On again; then off again. You want me; then you don’t. You say you can’t live without me and go make a life with someone else. Up and down like a yoyo, but, guess what! I’m not going to let you do from now on. I don’t believe in you anymore. Go away. Leave me alone. S.J.
I don’t miss him,
I miss who
I thought he was.
It began in fourth grade when I began to “like” you. Through middle and high school sleep came most nights while thinking of you. We had one date to a dance when we were fourteen but you spent most the time with others. I never got to kiss you even one time. R.Y.
Think of that person you knew when you were a kid,
who you always thought you could have loved
completely and forever. Well, you could have.
It’s the truth, and it’s the saddest and simplest thing.
There isn’t just one person for each of us in the world.
There aren’t many, but there are always a few people
we could have made it with, that maybe we still want to make it with,
that press themselves so close to our hearts they leave scars,
and then slip through our fingers and disappear from our lives.
And it doesn’t make a difference if you’re thirteen or ninety-eight
because some things you feel are real, no matter when.
From “Flick” by Abigail Tarttelin
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