Chaotic Hearts

Home isn't a house.

Home wasn't a house when I was in love with you.

Home was a blond haired boy with beautiful blue eyes and braces.

Home was laughing at stupid jokes and making up bad words just to call each other them.

Home was phone calls filled with excitement about concerts at three in the morning.

Home was skyping for hours while you sang to me.

Home was my heart racing when you were near and doing anything possible to make you notice.

Home was sharing stupid things and tagging each other.

Home was knowing each other's favorite artists.

Home was wanting nothing more then to be home.

But home was built by false hope and assumption.

Home was built on me changing everything I was and everything I stood for to feel important enough to be at home.

Home was built on depression and self hatred and not wanting to be alone.

I loved you more than anything. I changed myself to your idea of perfect and I still wasn't good enough for you.

Home was lost...

To a prettier girl. With skinnier features, and a better face.

Home wasn't home.

Home was a wall built around myself so I'd have something to look forward to. Something that I might have been good enough for but still couldn't keep.

But I'm alive without you. And I'm living without my home. But it still hurts and I'm still healing.

Hopefully one day I can find a real home, a home who I belong with. A home without you.

Just like you did.