I say I’m not good at the domestic life. Truth is, I was. I did all of the good wifey things. I think I hated it the whole time, I’m an artist at heart. But I did it. I did it out of love for you.
And the less you showed your love for me, the harder I tried. I screamed. I cried. I begged. I gave and I gave and I gave. My life was as a slave to you and your whims. There is nothing this heart, this soul, this body would not provide to prove my love for you. Yet, I don’t know if you were even there.
You showed up. Your body was there. But where was your heart? You say you loved me, but I never saw it. Not until the end…when it was too late.
I promise I didn’t know it was too late. I can make promises just like you. Except mine are true. I promise that I almost tried. I’m sorry that I couldn’t let my heart get broken again.
I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I left now. Now before I invested myself again. I don’t know what stopped me this time. What stopped my from falling in love with you all over again. I did it before, after each and every heartbreak. I used to know you would keep those promises. You made them every time.
The last time I didn’t know. The last time I thought twice. Maybe because it wasn’t about me anymore. Maybe it was because I saw the disappointments and loneliness in their eyes. The promises were failing them too.
You let me be it all. You let me be their everything. Because you knew I would. Because its easier. I know. I quit screaming. I quit yelling. I quit asking and I quit begging. And then it was over. It was over long before it was over. Didn’t you see it?
But now it’s good. You are the man I always thought you could be. You are compassionate and kind. You want me to be happy. You ask to spend time with them. I wish I didn’t have to leave to make it happen.
It could’ve been great. It could’ve been the best thing. But I know it can’t be. Because you are not you and I am not me as long as we are together. That is the part that hurts.