I Hope She Makes You Happy, Like You Did To Me

And again, I had proof. That everything that looks like it is, is too good to be true. Why can’t I never learn the lesson, why are my rose coloured glasses glued to my face? Why do I keep having faith in things that were never meant to be part of my fate? I don’t know. But I do it everytime, believing all these lies.

He was gorgeous; every inch of his body was art. His voice was soft and gentle, with an accent that’ll make the Artctic melt. His hands were strong, but dangerous. Strong enough to break the wall around my heart. But his hands weren’t careful enough.

I liked his eyes and he loved mine. Our visual communication was more than fine. We were becoming, with the day our bond grew stronger.

Or was it all in my mind? Was he never really mine?

He told me he still loved her, as my heart started to bleed. Why, if this was the case, did he look at me like that, from the very first day we met? I should’ve closed my eyes as soon as he’d try to catch mine. But I was hopeful and hypnotized by the corners of his smile.

I hope she’ll make him happy in the way he did to me. You can’t force anyone to love you, that’s why I’m setting him free. And maybe one day he looks out of the window and sees a stranger passing by that looks like me, maybe then he’ll realise what him and me could’ve been.

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