(no subject)
You were just like my mirror.
You treated me exactly as I treated myself.
And maybe that's why I loved you.
Because that's the only kind of love I thought I could have.
Sometimes you would love me.
Sometimes you would be kind to me.
Sometimes I would love myself.
Sometimes I would be kind to myself.
You would be so cruel sometimes,
a mere reflection of your own frustration
towards yourself
that I took in as my own self-worth.
And you were never really there.
I was always trying to pull you back to me.
But maybe I am never really "here," either.
I'm always somewhere else, off in my mind.
"Why can't you just love me?"
"Why am I not good enough?"
But it occured to me.
No, maybe I knew it all along.
Why couldn't I just love myself?
Why couldn't I be good enough for myself?
Baby,
I loved you even when you hurt me.
I loved you through even your cruelest moments.
I loved you unconditionally.
So why couldn't I love myself, even when I hurt me?
Why couldn't I forgive my mishaps just like I had
always forgiven yours?
How could I love you so much and not love myself?
My love with you was like the love with myself.
Always a struggle.
"Why can't you just love me?"
I screamed to you, like you were my mirror.
I couldn't make you be who I wanted you to be.
You would never give me what I wanted.
And I felt so exhuasted, so helpless.
Who would give me everything, like I gave you?
Who would fill up these holes you left me with?
No one can but me.
You helped me realize that.
No matter how desperately I fought,
I could not force you to accept the happiness I tried to give.
I could not change you.
But I can change myself.
It's such a simple thing, but no one really knows how to do that.
I wanted you to hug me. I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted to feel your love.
And when I begged enough, you would. Sometimes, you would on your own.
And I was in bliss.
But you were my mirror.
I was asking for love from myself. I wanted to feel the love I had within me.
But that's been there all along, hasn't it?
Because I truly came to love you, even someone like you.
Love is hurting for the other, wanting them to be happy
even if you know that means giving up what you wanted.
Since I was able to love you,
I must have that love in me.
I must be able to love myself, too.
I chose this road. I chose this pain.
There's nothing more I can say.
I needed you, I really did.
I needed someone to show me, really, how severely
I had been torturing myself.
And I know, I know you tried to love me,
you, who doesn't remember how to love.
But I as well was just your mirror
revealing your true self.
You gave me the most precious gift.
You taught me where to go.
My love. My mirror.
There are so many things
I'll miss about you.
There are so many reasons
I loved you
that no one else can understand.
I had so many beautiful memories with you.
And nothing,
not any word you said,
or anything you did,
hurts more than letting that go.
Because I never intended to love you.
And there will always be a small part of me
that wishes you could have really loved me too.
But I know this is the way it should be.
If things had gone any differently
I wouldn't have found the strength within me
to walk on my own.
I hope I gave you something. I hope you felt loved.
And I truly, truly, want you to find your way too.
You treated me exactly as I treated myself.
And maybe that's why I loved you.
Because that's the only kind of love I thought I could have.
Sometimes you would love me.
Sometimes you would be kind to me.
Sometimes I would love myself.
Sometimes I would be kind to myself.
You would be so cruel sometimes,
a mere reflection of your own frustration
towards yourself
that I took in as my own self-worth.
And you were never really there.
I was always trying to pull you back to me.
But maybe I am never really "here," either.
I'm always somewhere else, off in my mind.
"Why can't you just love me?"
"Why am I not good enough?"
But it occured to me.
No, maybe I knew it all along.
Why couldn't I just love myself?
Why couldn't I be good enough for myself?
Baby,
I loved you even when you hurt me.
I loved you through even your cruelest moments.
I loved you unconditionally.
So why couldn't I love myself, even when I hurt me?
Why couldn't I forgive my mishaps just like I had
always forgiven yours?
How could I love you so much and not love myself?
My love with you was like the love with myself.
Always a struggle.
"Why can't you just love me?"
I screamed to you, like you were my mirror.
I couldn't make you be who I wanted you to be.
You would never give me what I wanted.
And I felt so exhuasted, so helpless.
Who would give me everything, like I gave you?
Who would fill up these holes you left me with?
No one can but me.
You helped me realize that.
No matter how desperately I fought,
I could not force you to accept the happiness I tried to give.
I could not change you.
But I can change myself.
It's such a simple thing, but no one really knows how to do that.
I wanted you to hug me. I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted to feel your love.
And when I begged enough, you would. Sometimes, you would on your own.
And I was in bliss.
But you were my mirror.
I was asking for love from myself. I wanted to feel the love I had within me.
But that's been there all along, hasn't it?
Because I truly came to love you, even someone like you.
Love is hurting for the other, wanting them to be happy
even if you know that means giving up what you wanted.
Since I was able to love you,
I must have that love in me.
I must be able to love myself, too.
I chose this road. I chose this pain.
There's nothing more I can say.
I needed you, I really did.
I needed someone to show me, really, how severely
I had been torturing myself.
And I know, I know you tried to love me,
you, who doesn't remember how to love.
But I as well was just your mirror
revealing your true self.
You gave me the most precious gift.
You taught me where to go.
My love. My mirror.
There are so many things
I'll miss about you.
There are so many reasons
I loved you
that no one else can understand.
I had so many beautiful memories with you.
And nothing,
not any word you said,
or anything you did,
hurts more than letting that go.
Because I never intended to love you.
And there will always be a small part of me
that wishes you could have really loved me too.
But I know this is the way it should be.
If things had gone any differently
I wouldn't have found the strength within me
to walk on my own.
I hope I gave you something. I hope you felt loved.
And I truly, truly, want you to find your way too.