The One I Thought I Loved

The One I Thought I Loved - a poem.


1. The One I Thought I Loved

I do not think I want to be loved by you anymore.


You have not been mean.

Or said any cruel things.

You have not hurt me, or given me emotional bruises.


You have loved too well.

You have clung to me too hard and rejected my request for independence.

You have begun to chase your dreams at the expense of mine, and made me feel guilty for refusing to follow you when we both know that what you're trying to accomplish will not work.

You have stepped in front of what I love beyond all things, and though you apologized and said you wouldn't do it again, you continue to do it anyway.


You have loved me too well.

Your touch is too gentle, and for that reason you are manipulative. You know that I fall for the gentle and the kind, and you use that against me.

Your kisses have become a burnt-out fire. No longer do my lips touch yours and ignite passion, and the only thing I feel is emotionless and empty.

I do not wish to sit next to you, or hold your hand. Not because you scare me, or your fingers are too cold, but because when you want to move closer to me I wish to get away and I know that if I move I will hurt you, and when you reach for my hand my mind goes numb and my hands begin to ache for freedom.

The three words that are supposed to mean so much - they do not mean anything anymore. When they must be forced out of the mouth, followed by a click of the end button and a groan, they should not be said.

Speaking of words; you make me despise them - but only the ones that come out of your mouth. Your repetitive use of the same words makes me angry. I do not know how to respond when you send me things you have written when you claim they are yours but that one paragraph is too similar to the song we both liked.

That song… You make me want to delete the entire album. You blow it so out of proportion, and listen to it so often while thinking that because you love it, I should too, and when I choose another song because it's something different than the one to which you've been singing for hours you get upset with me. It is okay to like different things and you don't seem to understand that, or care.


I do not think I want to be loved by you anymore.

I also do not think that it is love in the first place, because you have taken love and replaced it with plastic roses, too cheesy pick-up lines with intentions of clothes coming off, and have told me that THAT is love.

But I know what love truly is, and it resides in the city next to mine, in a house I will never see - because he has not yet written these words to the one he thought he loved.

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