Forgiveness doesn’t mean love.

Here you are again. In my bed and in my life.
I don’t want you here. It’s not you but your arms. It’s not who you are but your warmth. It’s not you but what you stand for.
I’m hurt when you leave. But I don’t miss you.
I’m jealous when you talk to other girls. But I don’t really want you.
I thought forgiving you would make me want you back. I thought my forgiveness would make you see my halo.
But these shadows that fill the cracks of my wings perfectly smother the light. They hide what I do not want to see.
That’s it’s not you whom I want.
It’s just your idea I need.
The idea of that warm spot next to me in my bed. The idea of softly snoring sighs that drift through my head.
You are here again. Warmly wrapped up with me in my world and I’m lonely.
You are not who I want you to be.
I will pretend.
You don’t see my wings and I don’t see what I need.

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