daydream [journal]

03

  untitled love.  

Breaking hearts, for her, was common practice. I should've seen it coming. The love made the danger in her look like a safe haven, a mesmerizing world of both mixed emotion and pure lust. So when the hurt came hurdling toward me, all I could do was stare, transfixed in a position of premature sorrow and sadness.

Couldn't I tell that I had already lost? After all, I knew that she would never be the one I could call mine. She had told me herself. She was bad for me, not like a drug you get addicted to. Rather, the one friend you had in kindergarten that was somehow a bad influence on you. They would change you forever, in ways you couldn't explain.

She had confused me in the way most lovers do. How could I still stay? After the stuff that had been said, the lives lost and the hearts broken? I would be a fool to cling on to something so fragile. So breakable.

Only then was the time, only those were the days. What if, I had been the heartbreaker? That's the thing with love, it never truly dictates who has the power until it's too late. A complicated realm of feelings that we couldn't navigate.

Our love never was written in stone and now, it never will be.