I thought I’d been in love before.
But I was wrong.
I’ve never loved anyone or anything the way I have with you.
Yes, I’ve lost you.
Yes, you belong to another.
And yes, thinking of you with this person causes me pain and I’m ready to break. Maybe I have already. I’ll never know because my only reason to doing anything nowadays is to make you happy.
Even though you hurt me all I want is to see you smile.
Yes, it sucks that you chose her over me.
And yes I am bitter about this.
But it doesn’t matter because the phrase ‘I’m happy if you are’ has never been more true.
This is what I imagine love to be.
Loving you with all my broken pieces though it causes me to break more.
And in a way this voluntary self destruction gives me satisfaction, because I’d take a bullet for you, even if you’re the one pulling the trigger.