Why we broke up [Editing]

You were a prince I used to be a damsel in distress

Whether or not you were so charming is still arguable. But to me, you once appeared like a knight in shiny armor who was ready to save me.
But to save me from what? Maybe you lost, trying to save me from the world, you lost the deep motives of your armor. You shoud've been my shield against the rest of the world. But turns out, you were much more a sword to me. The only thing I could've been saved from was yourself. And the pain tied up tightly to the sound of your name.

Nevertheless, may have you been a prince charming, I was tired of being the damsel in distress. I mean, what the fuck, I'm a queen.

And the fairy tales of ours was a cliché. We met, we talked, we fell in love and you broke it off, then I gave you a second chance and you broke it up again.

We met in some odd timing, in facts. Perfect timing.

But I don't really know if there can be such things as "the perfect moment". I think I was ready, without even knowing it. I was ready for you to come into my life and turn it upside down.

It felt into places, where we had the perfect moment for both of us to fall in love. We were ready to fall. And we free fell for about eight months. Then you pulled a parachute from nowhere and let me fall to the ground. More like collapse to the ground and fall to pieces.

So, timing's a bitch and she changed her mind and basically screwed us, or perhaps you did. I'm still uncertain of which one's the worst.

And it felt new and marvelous. Even if wasn't the first time I had fell in love. Or perhaps it was, perhaps it was the first time that I had met true love. Maybe that's why it felt so magical. But still, a fall is a fall no matter how wonderful it felt while free falling.
Because you eventually have to land on the ground and that's when it hurts. When you touch the ground.

They say fairy tales are defined by villains and heroes. They are defined by magic and morals.
If our love was some kind of fairy tale, you would be all. Hero, villain, prince and king. And our love was magic and madness.

It drove us crazy. It drove us apart. And part of the reason why our love was magical was because of that, the pain. It just meant it was real. At least from my side.

And now I can say that I have learned that there's really no shortcut to forgetting someone. You just have to endure missing them everyday until you don't anymore.

And that day is still not today. It's not like I never tried though. I tried as hard as I could. To scratch you off my heart, to withdraw you from my veins and to erase you from my memory.

I believed in rebound. I believed it until the day I met some other guy. It looked like love at first sight, at least like at first sight. It started with him giving me his sweatshirt when he didn't even heard of me and then a bit of alcohol then we met again. In that time I thought about you, you might have crossed my mind once or twice or maybe hell too much for someone who was supposed to be dead for me. I thought of the possibility of him scratching you off of my thoughts. And I thought of the possibility of this summer to be the time when I finally move on. And it worked, I dated him for the time I stayed in California. My best friend asked me if I loved him and I answered no, because I knew what love tasted like. The love I knew tasted like your lips and only them felt like love.
So when I came back home, the recoil hit me harder. I hadn't changed at all. Nothing had changed at all. You were still intertwined with my thoughts and you still haunted me.
The only thing that had changed was you.

And I held onto the thoughts that in seven years, there wouldn't be any atoms of mine that would have been under your touch. None of the atoms of mine would have been under your spell. All it had to take was seven years, seven years and the sound of your soul would be all gone. And if my atoms were able to reconstruct themselves entirely and reborn, so was I and with any of them in touch with even the smallest parcel of your heart, maybe then, then it would change. I just have to do like the Phoenix, to reborn from my ashes. Something new would happen. Seven years from now, maybe then I'll be able to move on.

But I learned more than just that. I learned what it felt like to be dumped. I have been introduce to the pain of missing someone so much the sound of their name was torture. I haven't yet learn how to deal with this thing, though. But I learned how to manage my emotions to become close to heartless, so no one would ever rip it again, my heart. And now, all I'm left with, is some stupid lessons and a heartless personality. You thought me how to love, but never showed me how to stop. Before I even had the chance to move on, you'd came back and just switch the thing on. But I couldn't, even if I wanted to, I couldn't switch it back off. Because it doesn't work like this. Grief, pain or whatever, it can't be shut off just because you don't feel like it. And that's how the rest of me was. Barely myself and barely moving on from you.

Saying that I missed you was an understatement. I was aching for you to come back and tell me that everything would be fine again. 'Cause you'd be there. For me, at last.

But that's not how it went, right. We both know what it looked like. It looked like you had felt nothing and you were fine with everything. Without me.

Truth is, I was picking up pieces of myself while you were picking up girls.

And it was as stupid as it sounds. I was broken and torn into a millions pieces while you stood still by yourself and you already had brushed me off, deleted me of your so damn precious life, right? 'Cause you know, nothing's more important than yourself...

It hurt to see how things had changed, I blamed myself for breaking you. But I had done nothing but watching you become someone else.

And it hurts to see the truth. You loved me first and I loved you last.