And someday when you realize I was offering you everything you wanted (as they always do) you will look for me and I will be cold and distant like you are now. Indifferent to words you’ll spew like broken promises I have heard a thousand times, another reminder that men cannot hold me.

When your nights are quiet and you feel something missing, it will be my voice you long for, a subtle reminder that someone believed in the truth of you. The truth you don’t dare share with the world. You will continue to collect women, feeding your ego on scraps of “what if” and “maybes”, while all of your ocean spreads thin leaving you shallow.

It’s predictable now. The ebb and flow. The longing and the shut down. A ride I didn’t ask for but have climbed on again and again, my heart aching more every time I am shown how little you think of me. How even with all I offer, you still search for someone better, or someone less… I cannot even tell anymore.

All I know is that the tears I have spilled over this could easily refill the ocean of you that you keep pouring out little by little every where else.

We could have been a force, but instead it’s always a half hearted attempt of you trying to make yourself feel better for not actually being better.  For freezing and running when asked to be accountable.   How easy to ask others to give what you need, but act like their needs are far too much.

Go be free in the relief that someone isn’t asking you to be the best version of you.  That someone isn’t asking for you to continue healing, communicating and growing. I’ve seen this show before. Go back to what and who is comfortable and call it home, when we both know true love asks the most because it rewards the most.

I am exhausted by mediocrity dressed up like love.  People that fall a part when needed, when I am overwhelmed by emotion and fear and then triggered by mindless bullshit on top of it.  I just, for one moment or two, needed safety.

But that’s okay, I am phenomenal at letting go and I can protect my own fucking self.