You wouldn't let me in.

I realize I had lost myself. I had lost myself in someone else. I invested so much of my time, money and effort. My emotions, love and support on someone else. And I lost myself.  I lost my needs. My wants and wishes. I put my life on hold just to make sure that “our” lives were on the same path.

Planning a new life seemed fun! I mean, every little girl loves to play “house”, right? That never changes. Even when that little girl grows to become a woman, she still likes to play “house” and dream about what the future will look like.

We seemed to be on the same path in life, we wanted to go to the same places and do the same things. We discussed what our options were and weren’t. We were good at compromising and this was exciting and fun! It made everything feel so real.

I knew I had a while before any of this became a reality though, and I was ready to wait for that. I was ready to wait for you, so that you could tell me what we were doing. I was okay with that. I wanted that for us. But no one else seemed to want that for us.

“They” always had something to say.

About you.

About me.

I truly believe that misery loves company. They weren’t happy in their lives, so they ruined ours.

The sad part is, it was the people you were closest too. The people who were supposed to support and be there for you, they were the ones who started the fire in this little girl's house. A fire that would progressively get worse and worse, creating more damage in the wake of it's destruction until there was nothing left of her house but an empty shell of memories and disappointment.

I tried to put the fire out, time and time again.
I flooded you with love and affection, gifts and things to do to try to keep the chaos that was happening behind us, to just a small flame, for as long as possible. But all they did was hold you beneath the surface so that you couldn’t see it.

They told you that I wasn’t good enough for you, that you could do better. That I was out to get you and that they didn’t like who you were when you were with me. But they were never around us long enough to know the truth. They told you that you were just “blinded” by me, and that I would end up hurting you.

I never would have hurt you. I only wanted one thing from you.

The truth is, we were both blinded. I was blinded by you and you were blinded by them.

I can’t blame you though. They were there first. You already built your life with them. I was the new person.

But they wanted you to feel what they thought you should feel.

And they wanted you to think what they thought you should think.

And they wanted you to see what they thought you should see. You were never actually able to live your own life, on your own time and make your own decisions, or have your own opinions. Yet I never asked you to choose, I simply wanted you.

But they got what they wanted instead.

You were weak.

You gave up on me.

They started a fire and placed it strategically around my house. Our house. That we were still building. And shortly, things started to smolder. We began to bump heads here and there. Which, in my mind was us figuring each other out, as new couples do. But they were watching my every move.

Those petty fights, were deemed irreconcilable in their eyes, so they would tell you, just how unhappy you were. Which made us fight even more.

The fire is starting to spread now. It’s as if they were walking around with gasoline just to speed up the process. Yet I continued to run around behind them and attempt to put it out.

You can’t put a fire out with just your hands.

You hated what they were doing but you did nothing to stop it.

The fire has climbed up the walls now. We tried ignoring it for as long as possible, escaping to a new room every time the last one became unbearable to stand in.

We knew.

I just thought you’d try a little harder to save the house that we were building. But they were always standing there, as our house was burning, telling you that you deserved a better one anyway.

Eventually we stopped enjoying each other’s company. We stopped going on dates. We were never alone anymore and most of our nights ended in heated arguments.

You told me you hated me once.

But I still tried to fix things.


You said you loved me, once.

Yet you still wouldn’t let me in. You locked me in the last burning room, and left. I was knocking on the door but you chose not to listen.

You chose not to love me. And our house, just like that, was gone. The walls caved in, the roof fell on top of me and I sat there looking at you, thinking, “everything is fine.”


There was no going back.

We could try to rebuild the house with what was left, but we would never be able to get rid of the sour smell of our charred memories.

Ask them if you’re happy now. I’m sure they will tell you.

As for myself, yes, I was sad. I was angry. I was disappointed. I felt betrayed, abandoned, disposable. But I didn’t want to beg for your love anymore.

I was blinded by you.

You were the one who hurt me in the end.

But I have since regained my focus. I have since regained my self-esteem. I have regained my own true worth. And quite frankly, I realize I am the one who truly deserved better.

I don’t need you.

You ran away, so you may not feel the heat from the fire yet. But one day it will catch up to you. Because they will never stop burning the path to your “happiness”. One day your life will come into perspective. And you will miss me. And you will regret your choices. And you will blame yourself.

A house can be rebuilt. And it can be built stronger than before. But you can’t just leave the foundation standing on a pile of ashes looking at the remnants of what used to be.