realities of a broken soul | poetry

part twenty-six

i want you to text me. i want to feel the vibration that my phone makes only when you text me. i haven't felt it in so long. i miss it. i miss you. i miss hearing from you. how are you doing? are you okay? are you happy with yourself? because when we were together you hated yourself. you thought you were a failure, and that everyone hated you. but that's not the case now is it. you're happier now. because i helped you become happier. and you helped me. we were happier together. at least, that's what i believed. you're happy no matter where you are or who you're with. you're always smiling. you've got a smile that could like up a whole room you know. your charm radiates and everyone around you feels it. you can make the mood in any room happy. people love spending time with you. and you honestly wonder why you're so popular.
you don't have to try you know. people are going to dislike you no matter what you do. you just do you, and the people who are there for you will stay there with you through the thick and thin. like i was. i was there, i picked you up when others and yourself put you down. you told me everything you were thinking and i convinced you to believe how great you were. i hope you believed it. i hope you still believe it.
you deserve the world. i'm sorry that i couldn't give that to you. i guess you thought she could? i guess she can. you know, she originally started off telling me how she was done with you. she didn't want you in her life anymore. not after what you did to me. and i told her that it was okay, she could talk to you all she wanted. i was okay. i guess we both lied. and even better yet, you told me you didn't talk to her anymore either. guess that makes both of you liars, because i see your conversations everywhere. i hear about them. you think that i don't care but i do. maybe i wouldn't care so much if either of you would text me, but i guess you're both busy whenever i'm available. it's not easy, keeping my cool all the time. you wonder why i smoke so much. when things overwhelm my brain, the smoke goes in and releases all my stress. momentarily. then i'm stressing over something else. i guess it's the same thing with drinking too. y'know, i never thought that i would relate to the people who are addicted to things. because yeah, addiction is an illness. but it's not about that. it's about the first. the first time was their choice. the first time i smoked, my choice. i lifted the cigarette to my lips, i inhaled that smoke into my lungs. i didn't care about the aftereffect. i only cared about getting you, out of my head. and no, not the you that i'm hung up on now. not the you that ruined my happiness this time. the you that started all this. the you, that is the reason i am like this.
there's always a first time. a first drink, a first drag, a first touch. all poison to your person. all addictions. i don't regret any of mine. i don't ever miss any of them either. the only thing i might ever miss out of every wrong i've done, is you.