straw, camel, back

Do you remember the first night? You touched me in some way that I made some noise. "Shhh," you whispered, and in that instant you owned me forever. But do you remember, also, me telling you how much I loved that you did that? "I can't wait 'til you do it again," I said. "Promise me you'll do that again, just exactly the same."

Only you never did. 

And that's what I'll remember. That you so easily could have made me so happy, with something so simple. But you didn't listen, or you didn't remember, or you didn't care enough. 

They say people will forget what you said and did, but they'll never forget how you made them feel.


I have been blocking and unblocking your number, like some kind of weird game of iPhone Russian Roulette. I block and tell myself I feel empowered. I unblock and tell myself I'm not waiting. 

Waiting is the thing that killed us, just so you know. Not this big long last wait, while you got enough power over your demons to open your life back up. Instead it was the dozens - literally, dozens - of small waits. The many, many, many times you left me waiting around for you. Made plans with me. Then just never showed up. Canceled. Chose something else. 

Saturday night was just one time too many of looking forward to being with you but being let down instead. I want the record to be crystal clear on that. That's all it was. One too many broken plans. 

The simplest explanation is sometimes the most heartbreaking, but I learned last time around that no explanation is just pure cruelty.

So that's why. Straw, camel, back. Broken.