The feelings aren’t always worth it
The advice is what got me at the end:
Live a life worth writing novels about.
Whirlwind romances, giving everything
the old college try. Living both wild and free.
You were the story that I wish I didn’t have
to tell- though I didn’t know it.
The attraction was instant- I doubt you understand
but something clicked in me when I met you
I felt rushes of energy vibrate through me.
After your epic breakup seemed like the perfect time
to see if that led anywhere.
I was younger, naive, open to experiences.
For a while it was amazing- lightning flashed
through me when you kissed me.
A tornado ripped through as we touched.
I didn’t question if I could love you more
I had already fallen.
Yet, to you I was nothing.
Six years later, this is what my mind comes
back to, we’re friends turned mortal enemies.
It’s not so much I want to remember you.
Not even that I want to remember the flashes
of both pain and pleasure that ran through me.
I’m okay with never feeling that again.
It’s the lessons I search for, beyond the surface.
What else did younger, more naive me miss?
What compromises led me to trade my soul
to hear words that ended up meaningless.
The advice proves true, following your
heart will give you things to mull and write.
However, at what cost? What will your
heart lead you to find in post-truth?