it’s hard to love myself without feeling the guilt…
there’s always a trace of it where ever I am…
healing old wounds is a process of pain and tears….
I cared…
for a long time I cared….
and letting go….
feels like a different kind of good bye….
I look…
I look for a long time on the horizon…
because I didn’t want to let you go….
I wanted to stay a little longer in the impossible reality where you loved me…
but seconds turned into minutes…
minutes into hours…
hours into days…
days into weeks…
weeks into months…
months into years…
until…
waiting turned into wanting…
wanting turned into hurting…
hurting turned into pain…
pain turned into protection…
protection turned into walls…
walls turned into a prison…
and I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore…
it doesn’t mean I stopped missing you…
doesn’t mean I stopped loving you…
it means…
loving me….
loving me….
became more important to me than…
keeping a fantasy of you…
