Just tell me: Was any of it real? Was it real when we were sitting in the back of the car and you inched your hand over to cover mine in the dark and we laced fingers and didn't talk and just sat there in the streetlights listening to soft rock? Was is real three months later when you kissed me and trembled hard and held my face in your palms and looked into my eyes and said "I've waited to do that for way too long."?
When did it stop? Was it slowly or just all at once? Later when we'd be talking about our secrets, did you wish I'd just shut up? When did kissing me start to mean that you'd have to get drunk? Was it during one of the nights I broke down hard or was it just the one day my body didn't quite do it for you anymore?
Did it hurt? Did you try to get it back? Was there ever a point that you wanted me again but knew that it was gonna be different? Was it the difference that scared you? Was it me? Did you just watch our forever become nothing? Did you look down at your hands and realize they ached for another horizon, another moon, another person's road to skim along the guardrails of? Did you wait to tell me because you didn't want the tears or because the tears were going to be too much effort to pretend to car about? Did you chase our love when it ran for you? Or were you the one to open the door and ask it to leave the room?
Just tell me: When did "I love you" stop being true?
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Recovery
PoetryWritings that helped me recover and will hopefully help you. Some might be mine.