I really loved you.
At least I meant it when I said it that day.
But the fact that I don’t now,
Is not because I chose not to,
It’s just because I can’t.
To be honest,
You are to blame,
And I am the victim.
It is just that you were different when we talked back then,
You were nice.
I fell in love with you,
Because you lied,
Because you wore a mask back then.
You did and said all the things that I was told a guy,
The one that I am to love will tell me.
You fitted perfectly in my picture.
But it isn’t like you turned out to be a bad person when we met in person.
It is just that you were different,
The kind of different that I didn’t want.
Or was I told not want your kind of different.
I think it is not you or I at fault.
I mean it is just that I was told and taught that the love that I receive should only be good.
Should be all about perfections.
And you were told and taught to not be your true self,
Because you aren’t perfect if you are real.
But love isn’t all perfect.
Love doesn’t mean an absence of imperfections.
Love means commitment, love means acceptance, love means both giving and taking, love means growing together.
This makes me wonder why society doesn’t talk of love in this manner.
Why is love portrayed as a relationship that is available as a perfect and to one that is to be made perfect.