You keep me guessing all the time. One day you’re sweet and loving. The next you’re cold and distant. Is it me? Is it your past haunting you? Is there someone from before that is still in your heart and mind? Do you really love me? Do you want me? Can I trust you? J.B.
is not madness
it is not love.
Pedro Calderón de la Barca
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I did get my hopes up too high. Maybe I was in over my head. Maybe it was stupid of me for ever thinking you loved me. Maybe I was just tired of being alone and pretended you cared when I knew you didn’t. Now you’re only a regret. G.T.
… every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh
is another shard of heart you’ll never see again.
For months you convinced me you had changed and your past was behind you. All the way you were still playing your dirty little compulsive games. Even in bed you made plans for sex with others while I lay beside you. Dirty, Rotten, Evil. B.C.
F#@& You for cheating on me.
F#@& you for reducing it to the word cheating.
As if this were a card game, and you sneaked a look at my hand.
Who came up with the term cheating, anyway?
A cheater, I imagine. Someone who thought liar was too harsh.
Someone who thought devastator was too emotional.
The same person who thought,
oops, he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
This isn’t about slipping yourself an extra twenty dollars
of Monopoly money. These are our lives.
ou went and broke our lives.
You are so much worse than a cheater.
You killed something.
And you killed it when its back was turned.
From “The Lover’s Dictionary” by David Levithan
My mind’s a thousand times sorry. My soul twice as much. But my heart regrets an uncountable amount. You’re ‘the one’ but I let lust take me. I cheated in a dirty and thoughtless transgression that’s my sorrow to bear. Please, please forgive me. T.G
How can one so seemingly friendly
betray all trusts and defect so readily?
How can one so high of morals
inflict only pain and dwell on sorrows?
How can one so soundly virtuous
commit heinous crimes and be so torturous?
How can one so quick with generosity
stoop so low and never bother with an apology?
How can one so reliably loyal
forsake all friendships and live in turmoil?
How can one have each and every quality
fail so blatantly and give in to frivolity?
And why did this one have to be me?
You have herpes and did not admit it until I caught the disease from you. I wonder what other secrets you keep and ask myself frequently,”what else have you not told me”. The longer intrigue is hidden, the more damaging the truth is when told. G.T.
…when at last you find someone
to whom you feel you can pour out your soul,
you stop in shock at the words you utter –
they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless
and feeble from being kept
in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
From “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”
by Sylvia Plath
Falling was only the beginning. Loving you is the real journey. I discovered over time you’re not what you presented yourself to be. Instead of kind, tender and considerate, you’re actually self-centered, cruel and callous. I’m not sure how long I can take this. W.P.
Love takes off masks
that we fear we cannot live without
and know we cannot live within.
You have broken my heart. By jumping to conclusions and only seeing things your way your reason for leaving me behind is, in no small measure, a figment of your imagination. The outcome is the same: I have lost my best friend. Very sad. C.B.
At some point of your life,
you will become aware
that some people can stay
in your heart but not in your life.