But he told me that he was certain of two things:
- That I would have him until the day he died or until I didn't want him anymore.
- That even though he did not love himself, he was very sure that he loved me beyond belief.
It was in those lies above that I believed my love would be enough to heal him. To somehow mend his broken pieces and help him get back to what he once was. To love him so well that he would, hopefully, be happy enough to stay with me, to build a future like he so claimed to want. So I took those broken pieces and offered in return my whole, unbroken, new-in-box heart. For I had never attempted to love anyone the way I knew I was about to love him.
What he showed me had me believe that he was worth taking the chance. The one person I had waited my whole life for seemed to be placed right in front of me. He couldn't have been more perfect in my eyes.
But as they say... all good things must come to an end.
And just as he had openly given me his broken pieces, he took them away just as easily. Only now, he returned my pristine heart in a condition mirroring his. Now my broken pieces glistened too.
He wasn't perfect, far from it. But my love for him made me blind, as true love does. He left without warning, without closure and without the slightest hint that he wasn't happy with me.
To make it all worse, he stated that he wasn't sure if he ever loved me, he wasn't sure that he could provide closure because seeing me would be too hard, and he moved on faster than anyone could blink.
In his ending actions I finally realized that he was not the one. He was not worth the heartbreak, the nights of pain, of wondering why I wasn't good enough. It was him that was not good enough for me.
In all of this... I hope he finds some peace and love in himself. So he can stop torturing and breaking hearts in his wake.