Find a Way
My Last Piece of You.
You promised that you weren’t going to be the one to break my heart, but you did.
Then again, you broke a lot of promises to me, didn't you, Jaime?
You always promised me that we were the forever kind of thing; that we'd always have each other and that you would always find a way to come back to me no matter how far away from me the road took you. You always promised that, even if you got famous, I was always going to be your rock; that I was always going to be the girl that kept you grounded.
You promised me that I would be the girl you married someday.
Did you ever actually believe any of the lies you told me, or did you always know you were going to shatter me? Did you ever think for a second that maybe you'd break me worse than anyone ever could? Did you ever think of the fact that what you did to me would make it incapable for me to find it in my heart to love someone again?
Six months. That's how long it's been since the last time I saw you; since you told me those words that broke my heart and ended our six year relationship.
"You're just not what I need anymore, Casey Anne. I’ll see you around."
How could you tell me that when we'd been together since high school? How could you go and say that with such a smile on your face, like you were telling me one more time how beautiful I was to you and how you couldn't wait to be back in my arms again?
How could you be so deceitful?
I never believed what my friends told me about you. They always said that someday, you were going to break my heart. But I never let their doubts in you stop me from loving you. I always told them they were wrong about you; that you were one musician with a good heart. I always told them that we were simply meant to be.
And now here I am, sitting alone in the bedroom we used to make love in. Your scent is still all over the pillows and the sheets. I know, disgusting, right? Any other person would have washed them by now, but I can't bear to get rid of the last piece of you that I have left. Your scent. Your presence in this small, cedar-lined bedroom with the vintage photographs and your old bandana pinned to the wall. That's all I have left and I'm going to keep clinging on to it for dear life because dammit, if I can't see you, I'll at least be able to close my eyes and pretend that you're there with me, your warm arms holding me in that lumpy mattress and my fingers running through your messy hair. And that's good enough for me, Jaime. It's enough for now.
Then again, you broke a lot of promises to me, didn't you, Jaime?
You always promised me that we were the forever kind of thing; that we'd always have each other and that you would always find a way to come back to me no matter how far away from me the road took you. You always promised that, even if you got famous, I was always going to be your rock; that I was always going to be the girl that kept you grounded.
You promised me that I would be the girl you married someday.
Did you ever actually believe any of the lies you told me, or did you always know you were going to shatter me? Did you ever think for a second that maybe you'd break me worse than anyone ever could? Did you ever think of the fact that what you did to me would make it incapable for me to find it in my heart to love someone again?
Six months. That's how long it's been since the last time I saw you; since you told me those words that broke my heart and ended our six year relationship.
"You're just not what I need anymore, Casey Anne. I’ll see you around."
How could you tell me that when we'd been together since high school? How could you go and say that with such a smile on your face, like you were telling me one more time how beautiful I was to you and how you couldn't wait to be back in my arms again?
How could you be so deceitful?
I never believed what my friends told me about you. They always said that someday, you were going to break my heart. But I never let their doubts in you stop me from loving you. I always told them they were wrong about you; that you were one musician with a good heart. I always told them that we were simply meant to be.
And now here I am, sitting alone in the bedroom we used to make love in. Your scent is still all over the pillows and the sheets. I know, disgusting, right? Any other person would have washed them by now, but I can't bear to get rid of the last piece of you that I have left. Your scent. Your presence in this small, cedar-lined bedroom with the vintage photographs and your old bandana pinned to the wall. That's all I have left and I'm going to keep clinging on to it for dear life because dammit, if I can't see you, I'll at least be able to close my eyes and pretend that you're there with me, your warm arms holding me in that lumpy mattress and my fingers running through your messy hair. And that's good enough for me, Jaime. It's enough for now.