The Love that Doesn't Love Back

You never understand heart break until yours is in pieces. I crumbled at the peak of my love with someone else. Unable to speak or scream out in pain. It also came at the eclipse of my friendship with someone called the devil.

I knew it was broken because I woke with that smell. The one he carries. It seems to settle in your sheets and forever you have to sleep with dandruff shampoo, sweat and filth in your bed. That's the smell of somebody, no one significant, that loves you like there is no tomorrow. It smells that way because you don't love them anymore. You don't love them back for one reason. They forgot, maybe more than twice what "no" means.

But that's not how your heart was torn apart. That happened when you gave your heart to someone, and then when you lost them, you didn't take it back. You waited. They found someone new. You understand that's the way of things, but you remember how when you were together, they wouldn't stop praising this demon. Together, you bought that devil a gift, suspecting, not knowing what was to come.

That is why it is in pieces. Because love doesn't love you back. Love doesn't respect you. And living without love burns. Dante's inferno was on Earth and now you are living it. Now I am living it. I have broken, starved, and not a bit of it feels better. Because I'm still waiting for you to love me back.