“I still remember the day I left him.
It was cold.
Not your typical cold weather, but my heart was cold.
Full of anger and possibilities of fun, I convinced myself he didn’t need me.
He didn’t need my loved-filled heart.
He needed to blossom.
And the only way was if he didn’t have my baggage.
You see, my beauty and think what baggage would I possibly have?
My constant nagging, my constant drinking, my constant shopping, my constant male friends!
You see, my heart was cold, and full of fun visions.
His was warm, and full of visions.
Even constant calls wasn’t enough, he still texted, cared, loved me.
But I didn’t need him, apart from the occasional steams of passions.
He was amazing, I wasn’t.
He said I was 99% angel and cared less of the 1% devil.
I said he should worry. The 1% was part of each of the 99% angel.
He forgave my young heart even when I indulged deeper into pleasures.
I needed more roughness around the steamy edges.
Then, I saw him walk by the other day!
Lovely strides I thought.
The kinds that make you want with desire.
Then a lady approached him, simple to the eye, sophisticated to the mind.
I never saw any beauty that matched to hers; I’m still impressed, to date.
She hugged him, kissed him lightly on his soft lips; I remember their taste so vividly.
How I wish I had them next to my neck, breathing gentle warm air as he talks about his world.
I was destroyed, crumbled from within.
She, all the while carried a small child, seemingly theirs.
My heart grew softer, warmer.
A tear dropped right out of his heaven’s gates.
Yes, he called my eyes the gates to a walkway to his heaven.
I turned around, and walked away to the path I came with.
Holding on tightly to a shopping bag filled with a drunk’s shopping.
A faint whisper of a child calling him daddy broke my heart.
Carried by the winds, to torment me I presumed.
It broke, to a thousand pieces.
I guess that’s how he felt when I left.”