a list of tragedies

untitled prt 4

dear fling,

3-2-19

I guess today you taught me a lesson. The women in my life whose opinions mattered told me you weren't shit, and if I would've taken their advice, I guess I wouldn't have cried a few times and gained five pounds. My instincts predicted that the third time would be the charm, but somewhere along those pretty words and promises you took a sharp left turn. I told everyone around me to just hold on, he'll show you who he really is, but throughout all this, I was the one blind and ignorant. 

God forbid you ever hear this shit from me, but that night you played me for the third time I just hoped you would call me and take it all back. Send me a text calling me baby, I know it sounds crazy but there was a part of me who wished that you would show up at my door. But that was just my brain attempting to stand up for you. As I thought of sleep, lullabies did not fill my mind. No, it was the thought of us. I just wanted to feel like we ad something. And for awhile, I did. My heart wandered away from my head, leaving love letters for my brain to pick up. Somewhere along the trail my brain began to blur the lines and you were pure again, like Romeo's broken heart at the sight of a new partner. All the times we stayed up, slowly stitching ourselves together, did you know you would do this to me? Our end was not seen in my prediction, I wrongly assumed God would keep us together. 

I stood on the other end of the phone, desperate and cursing your name, two reactions so hateful inside my body. My anger and affection tore at each other, ripping and shoving, tearing and screaming. I counted the rings, rounded up the missed calls. I tried to connect our minds and cry out to you, I even prayed to God that you weren't serious. I had told my homegirls about you, my mom and sisters. 

Every time I see you in the hall it's like walking past a ghost. I see fragments of the past in your face, and all I can feel is desperate. As we talk, I keep my fingers crossed that you might mention you're interested and work has calmed down. Last time we crossed paths you told me you're still too busy for life to catch you slippin, I just wish you would've told me that in the beginning. I'm a young depressed girl, perfect to hurt, and you just left me to figure things out by myself. I wanted you so bad because I felt like we were a team, but things were easy and you turned your back on me.