I like to think
it’s weird to think of someone that you’re ‘in love’ with. I hate to think that it happened. but it’s hard to realize it until it after it’s over. when you’re in it, you don’t know it. when you’re on the outside of it, you realize, they took something from you that you’ll never get back. and that’s the part that sucks. that regret. that pain. I think after every break up, we all lose a little part of ourselves.
We recover but we’re not the same as we were before then. we move on but our outlook has changed. our optimism is different and our pessimism is often enhanced.
I believe for me, the one time I fell in love, I self-destructed. Sabotaged it. I’ll probably never get that same chance, that same opportunity. that’s fine. I knew what it was like. and I’ve tried the greatest wine, it intoxicated me but I drank it all down, without appreciation. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that missed her.
