Broken Angel

Yes, I am a broken angel. I have to convince myself that it was not my fault. It wasn't.

He broke my heart. He did. He was my hero. He was my confidante. He was my idol. But he chose to break my heart. He left me. All drenched in tears, in fear, in solitude. He left me.

He was my refuge. I would run to him when she and I did not agree. He would comfort me. But he left me; left me questioning; left me forlorn.

No, I do not hate him. How could I? If I loved him with all my heart. I still love him even when he crushed my heart, even when he left me to question if happiness could ever exist; if pure happiness could ever be true.

He left me broken. He left me crushed. He left me.

But I do not hate him. I forgive him. He had reasons, I know. I just wish he thought of me, he thought of my life without him. I guess he did. Maybe this was for the better. I just wish now that he was strong enough to stay. I just wish he held on.

I know he is as broken as me. I just wish us courage and strength because I know, as days get longer, as years go further, this won't lessen the pain, the brokenness. It will hurt more, I know. But I know we will find consolation in the fact that we have lived now far apart for a long time. We can get through this.

I just wish he thought of her, too. Maybe she was more crushed than him. But nevertheless, it has come to pass. We can only move forward.

I just wish he is fine. I just wish he would call.

I just wish.

I miss you.