The Loosing Game

I thought nothing of it at the time, it was a game. You would always tell me that whoever fell in love first would loose. My pride had always been much too strong to ever believe that I could loose.
I told you of all the adventures I planned to have, you said you'd be there, but now I'm here.
Remembering the day that I lost. The day you came to my house at three a.m. drunk and upset for no particular reason. You took me into the middle of the street and began twirling me, I knew that with every twirl I sank deeper. I was loosing.
But while I think of you you are with someone new, more interesting. A perfectly untouched toy. You always told me I was a mess, such a beautiful, flawed mess, that I was bent and not broken, but you eventually realized that you got tired of picking up pieces and that I wasn't broken, but destroyed.
I'm sorry for disappointing you.
You've won.