I was free spirited and spontaneous when I met you. I used to be carefree and open, with a gypsy heart that was ready to love. I was young and naïve and you were exactly what I was looking for.
Or so I thought.
It turns out, you weren’t. You were reckless and careless and you turned me into someone I hate, someone that now, I don’t know how not to be.
Now I’m cautious and guarded because I learned the hard way what happens when you give your all. I witnessed firsthand what happens when you trust someone with all of you.
You took advantage of me in every way, and for some reason, I allowed you to. The old me never would have done that. I would’ve told you where to go and how to get there.
Before I met you, I was strong, but wore my heart on my sleeve, and I’d have given someone the shirt off my back. Now, I’m selfish and impatient and have walls built so high that nobody is getting in. I wear a coat of armor, and keep my heart locked up tightly with barbed wire fences.
I hate that you changed me.
You were supposed to love me, not ruin me.
Instead of bringing out all the wonderful aspects of me, you brought out the anxious parts. You brought out my insecurities and doubts.
I used to be so trusting and hopeful, and now I’m just the opposite.
I felt myself changing. I knew I was turning into you, but your hold on me was too strong to resist. The old me would have fought you tooth and nail and would’ve been too bull headed to sit back and cave. But the new me, the one you created, is weak and battered, and has no strength left to fight.
You were my life. You were my heart and my soul. But, you were a lie. Now, I’m forced to rebuild, and I don’t even know where to begin.
The old me is so disappointed that the new me let this happen.
I don’t know how to be the person I was before. And dare I say it, I don’t know how to love again with only half a heart.
You were supposed to bring out the best in me, not make me forget about it. I was so focused on bringing out the best in you, despite your cold-hearted nature, that I lost sight of who I was. My finish line became “us” and “we” and your temper tantrums for attention became my distraction.
You were my downfall.
You were supposed to better me, not degrade me.
I miss me.
Not the me that you turned me into. Not the stranger I see staring back at me from the mirror. The real me, the me I was before you beat me down into this nothing of a woman standing before you now.
Tell me, where'd you leave the girl I used to be, the real me?