I present this out of love. In my anger I realized how much I want to be a better person to allow this love to grow. Continue. Never diminish. It was in my angriest moment that I realized the extent of my love.
I think the worst thing about falling out of love with you is your resignment. Your relief. The nonchalant way you say you feel like a big pressure has been lifted from your shoulders. Like the end of us brought a better you.
My disappointment is palpable.
My tears ever-flowing.
I want nothing more than to be the green and purple light our WE used to be. I want everyone and everything to be jealous of us again. Even I envy my past self. She relished in a perpetual state of happiness with you. She indulged in your patience. Basked in the whimsical way your eyes penetrated hers, created lakes and rivers without a single cloud or dance.
Presently, you give feelings of wanting to be able to call me and statements involved with me not being uncomfortable to still visit your mom or granny because, to them, "you are still family." What about to you? Did I magically stop being your wife over this spat? What about the child I hope to nourish in my belly? Will he or she still be family, too?
"I just hope we can still be friends. I still want to be in your life." That’s what you said. You want to be in my life in some way. There was a time when you couldn’t imagine not BEING my fucking life and now you just want a tiny corner in it??? Forget-me-not type shit. Should I settle for this when what I want is right within my grasp? I just need you to help me reach it.
But that’s not the worst part.
No.
The worst thing about falling out of love with you is the casual way you say you’ve kinda fallen out of love with me, too.
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