i created a portrait of you that can never be realized. the woman i envisioned you to be never existed. you manipulated my perception of you by only sharing parts of yourself. you're an enigma, giving away portions of your life in stories to others, pieces of a puzzle that can never be put together. no one could ever possibly know all of you.

i'm embarrased that i ever imagined i knew you. and that i fell in love with who i made you out to be. you're more manipulative and selfish than i expected. worse, your sincereity made me doubt my own intuition. my gut feeling that what you were speaking were lies but your look and tone made me want to believe it was the truth.

i thought i would lean on you till i had the strength to support myself. i thought i would be the one using you until i found something more desirable.

but the user became the used and i have found myself the butt of my own sick selfish joke. this is why i am not sad. this is why i don't think i'm in the posistion to judge.

i wish my heart would stop hurting. i wish i would stop yearning for a woman who, apparently never existed. i wish i could see you for who you are and not who I thought you were.