Door

I remember the first door you shut on me. It was the farthest emotion I have ever felt from trapped. The room was just a room without you in it, not one I wanted to be in, I was just a person without you there, and not one that I wanted to be. I remember the last thing that I said before you stopped loving me, it made me understand that sometimes people say things to get a reaction, I am sure you can guess I did not get the response that I had wanted. I've been sick to my stomach over this, for years, and I swear on my life that this feeling now is more confusion than love. I don't know how to speak to you any more, I don't know who you are any more, or myself. And when you said you've been drinking, I apologize forever and ever that it brought me to tell you what I was thinking. I am more than sorry about what I said before, I told you I didn't feel sorry, and did not know I would only feel it more. I am left with the words said consequently to covet, you told me you had a dream you kicked me out of your house, but to not think anything of it. 

You wrote my name on anything you could, car windshields and shower doors, I have been fading ever since. You cared about me so quietly, that is not what this quiet is any more.

(I will never be happy again, and that is something that I came to terms with. I wouldn't wish that upon you, nor will I ever. I just hope I feel hope, just enough to feel better.)