A part of me knew this would never work,

At least without me getting hurt.

Yet the other part of me really pushed,

And kept on pushing,

Before finally convincing myself to go through with it.

A part of me wanted it to be you.

The other part really, strongly didn't.

The part of myself that encases my intuition was right,

Even though I really didn't want it to be.

"We told you so"

"He's not right for you"

"You're too good for him"

"He's a bad person"

All things I heard countless times from my friends,

Yet I chose to ignore them.

I really shouldn't have.

It was a tough pill to swallow.

You didn't treat me bad,

You did things people would consider 

To be, 

well,

 considerate.

But that was only a part of you,

Putting on a complete and utter act.

Because that part of you knew deep down what you had to do,

To reach that part of me.

Feelings of yearning and sheer sadness still grip onto me,

Latching onto my insides,

Tying my stomach in knots.  

Though you did make me feel empty,

The part of me that felt most myself

Unapologetic and authentic

Never seemed to reveal itself around you.

Even when we looked up to the frigid stars,

Those that mean so much to me. 

Symbolically and spiritually,

I was exhibiting my excitement.

But you weren't.

Nothing was there.

You, weren't there

Now you're in my back pocket.

And I realize that all the parts that came with you are gone.

I won't hug your Mom again,

Hear the clanking of her earrings and stories about travels.

I won't play fetch with your dog anymore,

The one with the human-like stare.

I won't longingly stare at myself in your bathroom mirror,

Second guessing what I was doing there

Mostly why I was there

Head empty, glass nowhere near full.

I won't hear you discuss cars with my dad anymore,

He really liked you.

Now you refuse to answer my questions.

Your cowardly reactions,

Or better lack thereof.

They tell me all I need to know

That it was a well thought out facade.

Everyone else was right.

You really only wanted that one part of me,

To use and to throw away. 

You didn't want me as a whole,

Maybe not even as a half.

But I guess it's neither one of our faults,

We can't always behave in ways we know we should.