They Don’t Know About Us.

It’s frustrating,  how you seem so okay. 

While I’m struggling to keep myself sane.

It hasn’t been easy. Nothing has been since you turned your back on me.

People tell me that I shouldn’t miss you.

That I should be mad at you for the hell you’re putting me through.

But more often than that, they tell me “Just move on.”

Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And that is when I get mad.

They say it like I’m trying my very best not to.

They say it because they don’t know about us.

And they never will, because irregardless of the rumors they’ve heard and the stories I myself may have narrated.

No one will ever truly understand us. Because, they weren’t there. They can’t possibly know how you made me feel when you looked into my eyes like I was all that mattered.

When you held my hand and suddenly my world fell into place.

How you made me believe and do the things I’d never imagined.

How though, I want to hate you for making me cry,  I can’t because I love you too much to feel anything else.

No one understood then, and they don’t now.

And that’s okay.

Because they don’t know how we were. 


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