Checkmate

I despise you. I hate everything about you. I look into the mirror and pretend as if your leaving hasn’t affected me. I lie to myself daily to spare my soul the pain you caused. I portrayed you as the hero saving face but in truth you simply wore a man. I had this plan for us. I never imagine my dreams would be set on fire, and you would run away. I sacrificed myself to satisfy you and under no circumstances did I think you would run. I wish I could say I’m delighted you left.  I wanna curse your name but somehow tastes of venom when I try. I never genuinely believe you wore ever bad but simply misunderstood. I condemned you for walking out and yet I made sure to burn the bridge. I knew as soon as you left this other side of me would destroy your essence. 

It felt awful to watch you leave but I knew you could never come back.  I held on for months after your departure and I made myself believe you needed me but in truth it was I. I needed you.  I wanted you to stay. I wanted you to pick me. 

I would compare thee to a summer’s day, because just like summer we ran out of daylight. We lost our warmth, our sparkle, our fire, and we wore left with nothing but forgotten promises. As the nights grew murkier and the seasons changed, so did  my love for you. I pretended to detest you. I painted you as a monster. To tell the truth, I was depicting myself. You see I lied. I held on, I remain the enemy. I was my own antagonist. I bore the pain of you leaving and in turn blamed myself. If I was better, then this wouldn’t have happened. I took every ammunition and aimed the barrel straight at you. The goal? I wanted you to hate me the way I hated you. I succeed, and it didn’t feel any better. 

I wasn’t better off without you and you weren’t this awful human being. Your departure blindsided me and If I could do it again, I wouldn’t. I would rather go on living a delusional fantasy then to know I could be so destructive to a love that was real. I wish everything had been a lie,  because that would make the pain so much more bearable. I guess the truth I refuse to acknowledge is that I’m not ready for real love. I never was. I remain the antihero. 

My tragic flaw will inevitably be my demise. I have yet to truly look in the mirror and see myself beyond my flaws. My heart is guarded and the pain is gut-wrenching. I won. I have forced you so far away that you could never hurt me again. I would rather torture my soul with the limitless possibilities if I had carried out things differently, but the truth is I didn’t. I declared things that I can never take back, and I know I’m furious at you. I guess the love will never truly go away. 

I’ve been burying it for months and hoping it will die. I know the love you had for me is gone. I feel exiled from this place. I’m locking myself away and allowing you to move forward. I knew if I could force you away, then you would gain peace. I’m, not an irrational person, if I could urge you so far away from me, then you would eventually hate me. If you could despise me then you wouldn’t feel obligated to talk to me. I guess in the end I nevertheless put you first. Therefore, I declared words I didn’t believe, and it took time for me to thoroughly commit but I did. I lied. I called you some vile things and pretended to loathe our previous relationship. I sacrificed myself so that you could capture my king. And for you that was checkmate. 

For That, I am dead to you. To me, you are a ghost persistently haunting my reality. I guess we both got what we desired , you gained your freedom and I got my eternal solitude.