I've gone through a heartbreak. One that causes me to bleed every day. I bandage my wounds with philosophy.
Did you know that I write poetry?

This girl, Dad...
For the time being, she was truly special. She latched onto me then left me dry.
If Love is a bomb, hers was a nuke. She told me, "I can't live a day without you."
"I need you",
"You make me better. I love you."

But we're just some dumb teenagers. We don't know what true love really is. What I thought was love, was infauation. What I thought was a deep connection, was limerent obsession.

You didn't see it, Dad but I've cried a lot. Sometimes I struggle to eat. Sometimes I can't sleep. You left me but she left me cruel.
In the end, Dad.
I'm still picking myself up. I keep my head up and strut. I work everyday and try not to be blinded by rage.
I realised...

The love I had for her, that I tried to have for you.
It's all mine. My love, my passion.
It was me that gifted her roses.
When she was at her lowest, then, I kept her closet.
I read her favorite story, kept her warm when it was pouring.
The essence of every kiss and hug was something that came from myself.

Are you proud of me, Dad?
Because for the first time in a long while.

I'm proud of me, too.

© DolorTheDaimone