We were okay for a while. We were happy. But then one day, all hell broke loose.
You gave up first.
It started with the small things—a text message or two that you forgot to reply to, an indifference in your voice when you ask me about my day. When I talked to you, it felt as if you were always itching to get away.
These things grew bigger and bigger, until you dropped the bomb:
"But hey, listen. I think it would be best if we stayed friends. Relationships are messy. People get hurt. Two points that intersect but never meet again—I don't want that to happen to us. Let's just stay friends, okay?"
You gave up first.
And this is why I'm giving up on you, too.
YOU ARE READING
I Give Up
PoetryThis is the story of how you hurt me. It starts with you, and that girl who broke your heart. When she left, off you went-walking around, trying to figure things out. It starts with me, and that boy who broke mine. When he left, I lost all my color...
