I wish I would have known you were a coward, who would abandon me when I needed someone the most.
I wish I would have known that one night I opened myself to you, the one night we were intimate would spiral me into the dark hole I am in today.
I wish we would have been more careful, and not have acted on pure lust alone. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.
You were sweet and kind, a little too kind and maybe that was a warning.
I genuinely had feelings for you, I liked your sense of humor and your devotion to your family and friends, but as time went on you grew distant.
And three positive pregnancy test later, I had wished I would had never met you. But you stayed and you worried, which made me like you even more.
I even understood that you wanted to take things slow, I understood how your last relationship hurt you. I understood.
But then you turned.
I received a wrong number text, well, let’s get this straight I received a wrong number Dick pic.
Considering I was hanging out with my girls they were entertained. I even told you about it, we were both entertained. But little did I know this person was your friend, who kept pushing and pushing.
The same friend you gave my number too and told to text.
This hurt more than I wanted it too. There was a pang of pain as I thought about the reasons why you would say that.
Was I someone who you could just pass around?, someone you didn’t care about?
You told me, he lied, but did he really?
I forgave you, I let it go, stupid me.
I had a miscarriage, I was scared. I was sad and I wished you could be there for me, be there with me. But you went MIA, but still filled me with kind words, but it was only through texts.
You were the only person I could talk to, and I tried, oh did I try.
I tried as I cried myself to sleep, feeling an emptiness In me. I tried, pretended I was okay, with the sole fact I didn’t want you to worry or feel some blame.
I tried to contact you, tried to text, yet nothing. You told me you would be there for me, and though there’s was small part of me that told me not to depend on that, I couldn’t stop.
It was only 3 days after my miscarriage, three days of barely anything. And you ended things quicker than they started.
It hurt more than I wanted it to hurt.
Yet I still couldn’t blame you, now 6 days after my miscarriage, now as I lay here with a fever, chills, pain and bleeding.
Now at the hospital scared out of my mind, that there’s complications. I still can’t blame you.