Moving on

The day the flowers lost their beautiful colour and shut their filmy blossoms, was the day you broke my innocent heart into tiny shards.

The fire in my chest that you once lightened up every time your sweet lips landed on mine, brutally tore apart as I saw you with her.

Your hand in hers.
Your eyes looking at nothing but her beautiful brown eyes, full of love and care.

And while the flower's stem bended, I realised that I lost you.

Lost you between the storm of desperation raging through my tight chest.

I remember my fingers starting to shake uncontrollably while my quivering heart tried to resist the cold loops trying to damp down the last, weak spark that remained from the powerful fire.

The coldness and pain took place in my weak body like a poisonous darkness. It felt unendurable and and all I wanted to do was to blame you for everything you did to me.

I wanted to scream at you.
I wanted to show you the broken pieces in my chest.
I wanted to say that I hoped you'd feel the same like I did one day.

But I didn't. I couldn't.

Because I still loved you. And I needed you.

Now I'm smarter than ever before.
So many things have changed. And so many didn't.

With the years I spent healing, I managed to weaken the hate and mistrust in my body.

I rebuilt myself. Without you. On my own.

And then I became free.
Free from everything trying to drag me down on the ground. From everything that tried to tear my heart into pieces. From everything reminding me of you and your lovely lies.

Now I know that I don't need you anymore. That I never did.

And I don't wish you the pain I felt or the coldness and emptiness in my chest.

I wish you healing. And peace. And growth.

So, that one day when you'll look back you'll realize what you did to me.
So that you'll see how bad you hurt me. How painful you broke me.
So that you will understand your mistake and will never again abuse an innocent, kind heart like mine was before I laid it in your cold hands.

And I don't blame you for all of this on your own anymore.
I learned to blame myself as well.

Though you were the devil, I took your hand.
Though you were the fire, I stepped into your flames.

You were the summer. Beautiful and incomparable.

Nourishing thousands of flowers with your hopeful light.

And then you left
Left everything behind.
Broken and withered.

And I blame myself.
Because I thought you'd stay.

But you didn't.

And I'm okay with that.