By Mac Guerreiro
Eye’m starting to see,
Eye’m starting to see how this isn’t about me,
How a trail of hurt has left you scarred,
How for you this “relationship thing” is already hard,
Eye’ve been feeling wronged,
Because if roles were flipped forgiveness would have already been a given,
Bringing you closer to me once again would have been the only decision,
But the thing is that eye can see who you are,
Even in moments when eye feel that we’re apart,
And then eye check myself and ask,
“What is the image in the mirror he is holding?”
He shows me the unforgiving ice queen,
The aspect in me who can only see,
A reject or be rejected scenario,
And it’s then that my heart softens just a little,
Eye can understand what might be his intention,
In spite of the hurt from not being extended any compassion,
And the sting of not being given a well-deserved benefit of the doubt,
All of the anger is gone
And eye’m left with just the undeniable void that forms when his energy opts out,
It sits in my chest like a vacuum of sorts,
And eye feel trapped because reaching out is a last resort,
You see,
We’re not so different after all,
When eye feel rejected like this,
It takes monumental happenings to push me to make the first call,
That’s not to say eye’m not an ever-shifting ball of anxiety,
One moment fine,
The next curled up and crying,
Hoping the phone will ring and it’ll be him calling,
And eye know that eye’d come running,
Even not knowing what the best option could be,
Getting close again would be my first priority,
As eye write eye can’t help but see,
How the knowing that he’ll read this is impacting me,
Feeling more vulnerable than usual,
Eye’ll tap the final keys,
Eye hope eventually even in anger and rage,
You figure out a way to see me.
