Everyone always asked me how I could love you knowing the things you did to me. And my response was always so simple. Plain even. "I don't know."
It was easy to say I didn't know. Even when I did know. I knew why I stayed. Because being with you left me with nothing. I lost my best friends, you made it clear you didn't like what they had to say about the things I told them. God, how I should have listened to the words they said where I thought they were deranged because how would that be possible? How could you do those things to me? Except that they were right.
My relationship with my father was damaged simply because you didn't like his love language, the only way he knew how to show me he loved me. So I let your words taint how I saw my father.
So if I left you, what would I have? I had no home to go to. I had no money, you took that too. I stayed because loving you was my choice and it seemed like the only choice I had.
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De TodoThis is a creation I'm making full of random excerpts I think of through my day. Take a peek at my mind if you wish.
