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You tell me you’re happy, and I know it’s a lie. You’ve come in and out of my life so frequently, breaking bits and pieces of me more and more every time. But that’s life sometimes.įast forward a few months from the day you told me someone else had more to offer, or at least, an easier pill for you to swallow: you tell everyone that you’re happy. I can’t believe my best friend, the love of my life, could do that to me. You found what you were looking for, long before you actually ended it with me, which still hurts me more than you could ever know. You wanted something easier, someone who wouldn’t push you to be better, you couldn’t handle the intensity of our love. My expectations and whatever other struggles you faced were too much for you, and the pressure you put on yourself suffocated you. I loved you so deeply, I would have, and did do, anything on Earth for you. I wanted to help you get to where you should be. I loved you without restrictions, and without caution. Through all the fights, the petty disagreements, and the abuse, I stayed. Still, for a year I held on, praying you would stay with me, praying you would get better. But the struggles you faced made it impossible for you to love me the way you wanted to, the way I needed you to. Internal struggles with yourself, external issues with your family and others around you and it weighs you down. And I knew, the second I held you close to me, I knew, just like I had known all those years before, that this was it for me. Then, as I had suspected for years, our relationship changed. I always felt you in my heart, there was nothing you could do to make me that upset for long. Yes, we had our disagreements, but we always made our way back to each other. I knew you would change me.Īnd for the next few years, you were my best friend. I knew in some way, shape, or form, you would hold incredible significance to my life.