To The One Who Loved Me More

Sometimes we make mistakes and when we look back we just wonder "What the hell was I thinking?". I've made one of such decisions and it has haunted me ever since. I came accross the second writeup that has completely expressed my feelings in words and this is my story. I just feel like sharing it.

"I need you to stop, and remember. To realise that it was me, me and not you. Me who in my deepest, darkness moments took what we had and smashed it into a million unrecognizable pieces. I need you to stop waking up in the middle of the night and wondering what you did, how you did it, what you could have done, how you shouldn’t have done things, because as much as you weren’t perfect, you were my kind of perfect. Sometimes I looked at you and wondered how you could not see your own beauty. How you could ever doubt it. It was as clear to me as day.

Look, it was me. Me whose heart beat in frenzied “Leave, leave now, leave now, leave now” motions. Leave before it becomes too late. Leave before you’ve made promises you’d be bound to keep. Leave before he leaves you first. I knew what I was like. But how could I begin to explain to you that my heart was a broken bottle and you were bound to cut your fingers simply by holding on to me? To tell you that, even though I knew love, understood it, spoke of it innumerable times, I still did not know how to give it. I did not, could not love you in the way that you wanted, needed to be loved. But the absence of love as you know it, isn’t necessarily the absence of love itself.

I couldn’t explain these things to you. And so when I left, I left a bandage, at the top of the shelf. Wrap yourself up. And please forget me."

-Oluwatoyin