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I think it's that place
that makes me feel it.
For several months I thought
I'd forgotten loving you.
Now I think about you every day.
Not because I love you.
But now I'm back where we met,
and I can't help but remember
Memory is a slow, silent killer.
Or maybe it's not even the memory
that's making me lose it;
making me miss you all the time.
I think that's what's killing me.
And not being loved.
You never loved me.
I've never been loved.
I can live with fighting with my family.
I can live without a mother,
I can live with stress.
I can live with depression.
I even made it through our end.
But now that my heart felt love,
can I live without that?
I know what I've been telling myself.
I don't want to fall in love again.
I'm scared, terrified.
And that's true.
But even when I'm with friends
I'm alone.
It's hard when I see all our old spots;
when I see others taking our place.
Our relationship wasn't the best.
I saw you more than you saw me.
I know who you are.
I know how people are.
That doesn't stop me from feeling
so lonely.
I wish you'd bought me flowers.
I wish you'd thought of me more.
I wish you'd heard me.
I wish you'd loved me.
You were my best friend,
and I think that's why I'm so lonely.
You weren't the person I wanted
so much for you to be.
It's lonely not to trust people.
Knowing that I loved someone so profoundly
who never loved me is lonely.
Seeing healthy relationships
and knowing ours wasn't is lonely.
Falling out of love with you is lonely.
Writing a poem about you
nine months after you left is lonely.
Not being seen is lonely.
It's so lonely.
I'm so lonely.

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