Surviving Heartbreak

Three Lists

I could write three lists:
one for why I loved him,
one for why I hated him,
and one for why I still miss him.

The first would be the shortest—
because loving him was effortless.
He made it easy,
like breathing,
like sunlight breaking through the blinds.
Love was soft with him,
unchallenged, unscarred,
and I didn't have to fight for it.

The second would be heavier.
It would hold the weight of his leaving,
the echo of a door closing,
the way my heart fractured
under the silence he left behind.
He took a piece of me,
a piece he still carries,
one that will never be mine again.

But the third—
oh, the third list
would stretch forever.
Because I loved him,
and though I hate him sometimes,
it's never as much as I miss him.
The absence is louder than the ache.

And maybe I'm a hypocrite,
desperate for the love
I lost to my own hands.
Because deep down,
I don't hate him.
I hate myself for ruining us,
for losing who I was with him.

I think I loved him
more than I'll ever admit.
More than I loved myself
back then.

-MistakenGenius