Me voy, Madrid

What was my endgame? I know when I first saw you, I was set on you. But you have been upfront with where you are. You talked to me honestly but I was dumb. I kept waiting for you because of my own vanity.
What was my endgame? There wasn't one. I would look into our future and see nothing but a fuzzy, cloudy illusion. There can eventually be just one ending. There are infinite possible endings, but time will cement one in. My self-delusion was blissful since an end didn't exist.

I got caught up in the sweet, creamy cake batter of infatuation.

(once again I am fighting my need for validation through the attention of others. I make myself present consistently in their lives so that they don't forget about me. If I'm out of sight, then I'm out of mind. I do it to a point of obsession, and end up smothering people and driving them away)

Rome wasn't built in a day

I'm not sure when the beginning of the end came. But I think it came like a thief in the night. It was strange, and I'm still not sure I know how to let you go. but I knew that it wouldn't be long. I knew I'd lose you. But wasn't ready for the abrupt edge. No signs no warnings. But I signed up to drop my hands when I met you. We signed on the line bound by contract for a short time only, you wrote the time frame. And I agreed that there was never going to be a need to argue when that time came. I knew this would happen. Not angry but letting myself feel the sadness and the empty. But in a few days it will pass. I do know that I'm resilient. And that was my ace up the sleeve in this case of you.