Knowing.

We all have moments of weakness...
Those nights when you wake up, unable to breathe,
The name of someone on your lips -
Someone who isn't there, who left.
And maybe they'll never know that to you it was
Only yesterday you had them, when days and weeks
and almost months have passed. And maybe they'll
Never know that when you think of them,
you still smile like the schoolboy you were.
Or maybe they do know, and just refuse to
care how it felt for you to be thrown in front
of that moving bus - not knowing and not caring
That even were they to hurt you intentionally
You would still, if asked about them,
Be able only to gush about all their
beauty and compassion.
Perhaps they weren't ready for you.
Perhaps asking them to be ready was unfair.
Perhaps it truly was all about them, and perhaps
in the end, you didn't really matter.
But some day, you'll want to know why
you just weren't good enough,
Why they settled for less,
And why, at the end of the day,
Your heart still feels incapable of loving someone else
After all these days and weeks and months...
When their love was given away again so quickly.

If you read this, I still love you.
There's a home in my arms. And the door is
always open.

I get so tired of silence, sometimes.