An ever morphing thing called letting go.

I realized that the only person who has to hear me, is me.

There are a million different things I would like to tell you; but you never wanted to listen, so I just stopped trying.

I don’t feel bad about that. For it not working out? Yes. But not for saying enough is enough.

I am not all to blame.

Your stories just keep getting more and more outlandish, and it makes me feel kind of stupid that I’ve stuck around for as long as I have.

I wanted to believe so bad it was you and me, but it’s not.

I don’t need that anymore. I need someone who’d never give up on me, and knows my worth despite the demons I fight.

I need me.

My resentment is turning to motivation. I’m motivated to remain happy no matter what.

J.Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of Me

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