Surviving Heartbreak

Learning To Stay

I felt betrayed when you left,
alone, like the world had shrunk to nothing
but the echo of your absence.
How could someone I trusted—again—
just walk away?
But it wasn't you who I was angry with,
it was me.

I'm a sucker for love,
chasing it like a moth to a flame,
knowing the burn but needing the light.
I don't know how to be alone,
and when you left,
it triggered the wound I'd kept hidden—
the one that whispers, you're not enough.

I felt abandoned, but it wasn't your job
to stay.
It was mine.
I should've held myself closer,
been the arms I needed,
but instead, I gave you everything
and left myself behind.
I keep expecting others to be
what I won't be for myself.

I hated me for letting you play me,
for falling into the same trap,
letting my heart be the prize
you never fought for.
But do I even want you back?
Or do I just want someone,
anyone, to fill the empty spaces
so I can say, at least I'm not alone?

I am strong—
independent when I have to be.
But the moment you gave me
a taste of comfort,
I stopped leaning on my own strength.
I need to learn why that happens,
why I give so much of myself
and leave nothing for me.

I'm tired of playing the victim,
the side character in my own story.
People leave, and that's okay,
but I need to stay.
I need to learn to love myself
the way I've loved you,
because how can I ask for better
if I won't treat myself the same?

I give because I'm scared—
scared that if I don't,
you'll leave.
But you still left.
So how do I win?
Maybe it's not about winning at all,
but about stopping the game.
It's time to stop chasing,
time to start staying—
for myself.

—MistakenGenius