mistaken

I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

I don't want to know.

I'm trying so so so hard to forgive. But it's not working. I told myself I did and I thought so too. I believed myself. Mistake #1.

I've tried to trust you again. I opened up and gave you my heart and told you my troubles. I tried again even though the voice in my head warned me. Mistake #2.

I put your happiness before mine. I tortured myself because I thought maybe, just maybe, if I made you happy, then I would be too. Mistake #3.

I spared you the loss of the love of your life because I couldn't bear to rip your heart apart. Not mistake #4.

I'm suffering. I'm slowly dying. It's slowly eating me up from the inside. Why? Because I'm consumed by my own thoughts, my own nightmares, my own realities. And I want to forget it all. I want to erase it from my memory because it's such an excruciating, persistent pain. But if I see you smile, I guess that's all that matters. Not mistake #5.

I'm an idiot, aren't I. For putting you before me when that's the last thing you did. You threw me to the mercy of hell and watched me as I crawled back, begging you for forgiveness. But when I found out you were the one to step on my fingers as I grasped onto the edge for dear life, I got up. Brushed off the dust on my knees.

And began to torture myself. Why? I told you. I'm an idiot. I guess I haven't been broken enough. What I did was painful, I understand. And I can't help but apologize. But what you did was unforgivable. And you can apologize, but I can't stop to listen when I'm too busy listening to the guilt invading my mind and cutting open my heart.