To The Man Who Kept On Hurting Me

Did I ask for too much, my love?

Were kisses too much to ask from you?

Do hugs require a lot of strength and effort to do?

Were "good mornings" hard to say?

Is loving me too much to bear?

I wish I could say this to you, but I'll end up with bruises and scars.

What happened to the sweet and gentle kisses you gave me almost every five minutes?

What happened to the sweet and soft "good morning" whispers?

Where was the love you gave to me everyday?

Did you really love me?

Instead of us having tea together at 3 AM in the porch, cuddling as we watch the sun rise to the sky, I smell smoke and ashes scattered on the kitchen table.

Instead of us making love every night, you were on the phone, busy as ever.

Instead of you spending time with me while we're still alive, you're wasting it on other girls.

I tried my best to understand you and your situation, were you going through things you never told me about? Do I have to love you more? I can't tell.

It's like you built indestructible walls around yourself, and you keep on building it as I try to break it.

You don't care about me crying every night, right?

You don't care about the story my eyes hold.

You don't care how I'm doing.

You don't care about my life.

You don't care about me.

Right?

You don't notice how everyday is death for me – realizing how much you're hurting me while you're living your life the fullest.

You don't care about the notes I give to you, asking what was wrong, don't you?

You only cared about yourself.

"Don't you love me anymore, my dear?" I ask.

"Not anymore. I give up on you," he says while walking away.

Didn't you say that to me every time I asked?

Love, please – just talk to me.

I can't keep on going like this.

I know you're with someone else at this time, and I hope you're happy – but please, let's talk about this.

I'm tired of wishing for the old you to come back.

I'm tired of tears.

I'm tired of wishes.

I'm tired of my depression.

I'm tired to live like this.

I'm tired of PAIN.

Hear me out, my dear. I just want you to be back. The same old guy I fell in love with in the coffee shop.

Am I asking for too much?

Beer and cigarettes are okay with you, but kissing me isn't.

Loving others are okay than loving me.

Spending time with others is more important than spending time with me.

Right?

Tell me if my expectations are too high, so we can fix this.

Because living like this forever is a shitty life.

Love – please come back to me.

I love you.

And I will always do.