Sick of it Hurting

You just sat there and watched as she threw your belongings out the door. You never raised your voice, never raised a hand, never tried to stop her. You stand and follow them out the door and just stare at your prized possessions, scattered so thoughtlessly on the ground. You see that photo of Her. The photo that always came with feelings of love and bitterness. She broke your heart, yet you loved Her so, so much. And now, now you don't let anyone close enough to break it.

The new one, the new She, could never come close to Her. But you rather liked this one. She just couldn't cope with you. You can admit you're not an easy person to live with. You're not an easy person in general. You look up to see her slam the front door and with a bitter smile, you're on your way.

Sometimes, you wonder if it's worth the risk. That even if you end up cracked on the sidewalk again, it would have been worth it. To have someone know you inside out, to have those moments that you can only share with someone you love. To have someone who loves you. Then you remember all the times you tried, and you did try, just to end up in the gutter with another crack and that damned photo. The one with the sun shining on Her hair and that smile she only ever wore for you.

You've done this too many times to not know by now. To not know that no one will ever be Her and even when you're closed off, unreachable, each and everyone still manages to make a crack. And you're just sick of it hurting. Sick of it hurting so damn much.