I think about you a lot.
It's absurd.
Because then I think about me.
And if I look too long and too closely and too meticulously, I totally get why you'd dump me for her. I don't know her, but looking at me, I get it. From afar, she seems to be everything I'm not. And that's wonderful.
I'm happy for you.
I'm happy for you.
Ok. I really am, I promise.
It's just too late.
I wish I had said all the things I wanted to say.
Acted like the way I wanted to act.
Be who I wanted to be.
But I couldn't and didn't, therefore..
I lost you.
But she, she seems wonderful.
So, I'm happy for you.
If happy is her..
I'm happy for you.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Joy
شِعرI never spent time seeking joy. I only spent time making a bed comfortable enough in sadness to bare it. Now, I'll see and work at finding joy. This is a continuation of "We Are the Normal Ones: Memoirs of a Fallen Human".
