Making Holes.

You were always so desperate.
For love.

We all are, in the end.

you befriended me on the way there but, eventually I realized I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be.
And when you became conscious of that you discarded of me.
But, until then I’d gotten used to you, enough, to feel your gnawing absense.

And you were already pursuing someone else.

She will make you laugh and she will give you her time, in a way I never could,
and she will take up more and more of your thoughts every day until you barely need to think of me.

Like you could replace someone.

But you never can,
not entirely.

The holes people make when they leave you aren’t one size fits all.

A few months later she will have told you that she cannot be what you want her to be,
just like the one before me did and once again
you will try to move on.

And all this time,
I wish you weren’t doing that, weren’t actively seeking love.

Love was like an ocean wave, it came when it must and it left when it must,
I wish you would stop trying to tame it.

Because in your unyielding pursuit of this ideal love you have already missed out
on so many other probable relationships which could’ve made you happy.

Because you aren’t truly replacing these lost relationships,
filling these holes but merely making more of them as you continue.

And I don’t want to see you do this to yourself, for your sake and for others.

I do not wish to see you render yourself empty,
to be left an accumulation of your past ghosts andย nothing more.


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