I still love you
Here I am again, writing the same old story, not getting tired of hearing my own thoughts, not exactly knowing where to start. I feel like I’ve been going around in circles. I tell myself that I shouldn’t keep my hopes up, that every hope just piles up like a tower with a weak foundation, and eventually it will fall down and I’ll be buried in rubbles again. I couldn’t trust you completely, knowing that I had been in this situation before and it didn’t end that well. I was in pieces, ones which couldn’t be brought back to their original state when already broken. But, I still love you with all my little ragged edges, even though they all hurt me when I give too much of that love.
I couldn’t count on your words anymore. Although they’re the ones I’ve been dying to hear, they seem dangerous and destructive. I’ve seen myself holding on to those words before and I realized that they were just words that could be played with, thrown away, and forgotten. Once you said them, I had no guarantee and assurance that they were true. Much so when you were drunk. I wanted to believe in them. I wanted to believe that you mean them with all your heart. But, I know I am standing on a shaky ground and your words aren’t enough to keep me upright.
I complain this much. You could hear me joking about this in between conversations, but I’d make it look like it’s not a big deal. Whenever I’m alone, I repeat scenes over and over again like a broken record, trying to get meaning out of everything you said, telling myself I’m utterly desperate because I’m the only one trying to figure things out.
I still love you, even though all you’ve been giving me are emotional scraps and leftovers. I still love you, even after you cheated and lied and left. I still love you, although you always disappoint me, although I couldn’t count on you, although you have this whole shelf of faults I could point out to you. I still love you, that most of the times I don’t even know why I still do.