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The Revolver


When we met, my heart was in the process of mending.

When you decided to fall for me so deeply, my heart was swollen on ice.

For someone with such deep rooted pain and emotional suffering, your love is unmatched.

Your caring side is much stronger than you have tried to shield.

The beauty in your love is that it is not for everybody even though it ends up overextending by nature.

But it is different.

The verbal reassurance that the distance between us was not personal and how much you love me became revolving.

Even if you weirdly attach yourself to women carrying the same first name.

We both have that strange misfortune in common.

Initially, the more I resisted, the thinner my patience grew.

Tried to fight my own pressure between what I felt and what I feared.

but I never actually feared anything except eventually your mind changing about me.

Which is what inevitably happened.

But now, there are a thousand ways that I would like to express just three words.

I smothered you in drunken text messages at least every other month.

Mainly because I wanted you to feel something consistent for once.

I almost surprised you with a flight home for Christmas. We were not even on that level, but it felt right soulfully.

Everything I loved about you, you hated about yourself.

The few things that you enjoyed, made me cringe.

Per usual, when I was finally ready for the love you genuinely gave, you felt spent.

And somehow, my protective nature still revolves around the worry that your heart is not being handled with care.

I truly never learn.

I guess this is what I deserved.


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