Give Up

We were perfect for each other. We would laugh at each other’s jokes. We would complete each other’s sentences. We were the couple everybody was envious of, but now we are strangers.

We gave up on our relationship the day that our little girl died. We didn't fight for what we had, we just let it blow away as though it were wind.

When I had the miscarriage I needed you, but you didn't need me. You were so strong, you held in your tears. You were so strong, but not strong enough. You quit trying after about 2 weeks, you said that I was a too depressed and that you couldn't deal with me anymore. You packed your stuff that night and left.

It's been three years since the day that she died, and I wonder if you think of her. I find myself drifting into thought about how different it would be if she was here. Would we still be together? Would we be happy? Would I be where I am now, in a hospital bed?

You gave up after two weeks, but me I fought. I fought for three years. You blocked everything that had to do with me, so I finally gave up fighting.

I lost her, and then I lost you too. Now, I'm losing myself.

I'll be with baby Kyla soon. I'll be able to hold her in my arms and tell her how much I missed her.

I'll be with my daughter, and you'll be just another stranger.