tumblinas.

I woke up crying this morning.

Last night he told me he didnt love me.

I was a wonderful woman and he was grateful for all I had done for him.

I was so happy to hear that it wasnt me,  it was him, that this morning I woke up crying.

So now I’m standing watching him pack my memories of him into boxes,

he tells me he doesnt want me, need me or love me, he hasn’t fancied me for quite some time,

I feel stupid for not realising this, for thinking the intimacies we recently shared meant something more

not less.

And I wish I wasnt the punchline, to a joke he’d been mulling over,

I wish I hadn’t let him tell me that I wasn’t special enough to hold on to.

I wish I didnt see the laugh in his step as he packed his things in the car to leave.

I wish

I wasnt me.