A love story…

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He loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself

He tried to heal the scars that others had left

I didn’t even allow him to love me completely, but he still did

I told myself I was done with love because I was scared it would always end in pain

He didn’t care. His love was like a balm to my wounded heart, but I wouldn’t love him back

For years he tried to thaw the ice that had settled in my heart. In a way he lasted so long because I knew I needed him, my heart needed him

I knew that even when I failed to show my love, he would make up for my lack with the abundance of love that he had

Love is sweet when two people love each other equally, or at least 60/40. When one is fighting to stay and the other is fighting to leave, it dies a slow death

He loved me with all he had and I lost him because of the ones who had been, the ones who were not him, but whose faults had left me thinking every man is a bad man

He wasn’t a bad man, and I knew that. But, I was too broken to accept that he could be different.

How I wish he was here today, how I wish I could turn back the hands of time. Because now I know how to love and he will never know it. Now I understand the kind of love he had, the unconditional, warts and all kinda love that he gave me when I was at my lowest; the always-forgiving kind of love that he gave when I didn’t even know myself, hated myself.

He loved me enough to let me go, hoping that one day I would come back to him. Now he is another woman’s husband. And she is one lucky woman. I just hope he still has that capacity to love that he had when I knew him

Now all I have are memories of the time he told me that I would never find another love like this…

2 thoughts on “A love story…

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