Bathwater

That’s what I’ve been doing. Bathing in his old bathwater. Telling myself that he’d never love another.

Until he no longer had much time to hang out or be together because all of a sudden he owed lots of other people his time. Others who he had continued to flirt with.

I don’t grovel. Like me because I’m me. Not because I text you every waking hour of the day and night. Not because I buy you lots of things or give you everything you mention. Not because I run by your side the moment you say you don’t feel well.

But because you know that I could give you support and will accept you and your dreams and will do what I can to help you reach them. That one day I could love you and put you first in my life. And try and make you happy.

Of course I know you would never do that for me.

I don’t feel or want to say that someday you’ll regret letting me go. I don’t want there to be pain for anyone. I don’t hate you.
You were simply a lesson I needed to learn. I feel I have come out of this as a wiser man. I understand things about love and friendship a bit better. I know what is important and what can be gilded.
I just simply want to wave and walk away. I’ll see you again. Maybe in the arms of your new lover. But I don’t want to feel bad, or happy for you.

I simply want to let you pass into the past. And not forget you, nor remember you.
I’ll never say goodbye, but I let go of all the hope I ever had for us.