We were so close to reaching love.
I may laugh and smile with him, but I cannot cry and grieve with him. And I need nothing more in life than to have someone to cry with.
So, I can't put him through me. He does not deserve to experience me. I wish we shared similar pains. And at the same time, I don't want him to break skin the way I do.
I could love him, but he could not love me. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't know how to.
And nothing breaks me more than to know I may never find someone who knows how.
YOU ARE READING
efflorescence
Poesía[efflorescence] the action or process of developing and unfolding as if coming into flower - a collection of wilting thoughts
