I Hate Myself For Losing You

I love you,
but I hate what you are doing to me;
what your love has put me through.

It's almost as if you don't give two shits about what happens to me;
not even if I'm sick,
or if I lose my voice,
or if I fall down a flight a stairs at work;
nope.

You'll never know all of this;
why?

Because you don't care enough to check on me.
And why don't you care?

Because I am unimportant to you.
I mean nothing to you.
I am nothing but a mere speck of dust on your skin, one that you can dismiss with but a simple brush of your hand.

Those who know what I'm going through tell me that I'm insane;
that you don't love me;
if you do love me as you have always said you do, you wouldn't have left me for her,
and I should just forget about our past, because what we had was a lie.

A farce.

And even though it hurts and stings like hell, I have no choice but to push you to the back of my head and move on.

Because I deserve to smile too.

And somewhere out there, someone deserves to see that smile too.

Someone who's not you.

So that's it.

Goodbye, my friend.
Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my guardian angel.

Goodbye.

,

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