How did this confident, self-assured head turner dissolve into an insecure, whydoesn'thewantme, pathetic puddle of neediness?
My therapist tells me I am normal.
She wants me to try yoga.
I want my memory erased cause it hurts too much to remember the way it was.
I want to forget the way he looked at me.
And how his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
I want to forget the way he held me.
And how I've never felt more safe in another pair of arms.
I want to forget the sound of his voice.
And the cute way he said my name.
I want to forget walking around the corner.
And knowing my life was forever changed.
They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.
Poets and their wordy words! Bah!
I say it is better to have loved and stayed loved than to have your heart become shards of memories that reopen the wound that never seems to heal.
Okay, so maybe the original rolls off the tongue better.
And that, ladies and boys, is why I am not a poet.