You only confessed your love in conflicting ideas.
And I would let you,
because I thought that I needed you
but I don’t fucking need you.

What I needed
was someone
who wouldn’t fuck me
on my birthday,
then idly bring up
the fact that they didn’t love me anymore.

I kept force feeding you lines
that I thought would keep you around,
because I was afraid of me
without you.

But now that it is done,
I am realizing that there
wasn’t any throb
in the way you spoke about your love for me.
I did not feel it in my head, my heart, or in the pit of my stomach.
I am okay without you.

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