A/N: Maybe one day I will stop writing about love and the perils of it and maybe, just maybe, write a piece that is actually worth something to society.
I have no-one to blame but myself. I try to hate you, try to blame you but in the end I know I can never fool myself. You said you didn't love me anymore. Those words automatically made it my fault, not yours.
I, in all my pathetic idiocy, find that I am too afraid to ask you what changed. It would be good to know in order to stop future heartbreaks but every time I look you in the eye I die a little more inside.
I have my ideas. If I were to turn off self destruct mode for a while I would see, quite clearly, that it was you who had changed and not me. But of course your beautiful perfection still clouds my vision and through this distortion I fail to see the looks you throw at her and the way you act around her. It was never like that with us.
You never looked at me that way.
I hope she brings you all the happiness in the world. Because she is obviously so capable of doing that.
The irony is that she is too similar to you. So similar in fact that you don't even notice what she is doing even though it is exactly what you did to me.
Let's put on our faces, shall we, and dance this masquerade for a while. It'll do me good to remember the man I fell in love with. There he is in all his innocence, virtue resonating from him, smiling and talking as if he gives a damn about me. And then there she is. My perfect friend, laughing with us in the rain, taking our picture because she wants to capture the moment, make it last.
And then there I am. Care free and happy in his arms, innocent and pure once again being the person I loved to be.
But the powers of time and gravity have a way of ripping away the masks and this revealed that the perfect puppet I loved was in fact, controlled by you. What a fool I was.
My own inane facade disguised the truth and yet I chose to wear it up until the day you ripped it off me and tore it down the middle, my heart along with it. These valuables were left at my own risk and so I blame myself.
I just hope you know how hideously this is going to turn out. I never thought I'd say this about that loud mouthed, self centred whore but she is way too good for you, even this new 'you'.
You should have learnt by now that deceptions do not last very long but don't worry; I'm going to be there to rub it in when this blows up in your face.
A/N: Sorry for the mix of emotions in this piece. I didn't mean to switch from sadness to hatred but I haven't quite worked out my feelings yet.