The horrible day still replays in my mind. Packed bags, full of every object I own sans the only thing in this world that I truly desired.

Pride made me leave. I should have begged; I know she would have seen reason but in retrospect the only thing I wanted in that moment was for her to beg me. I lost my best friend that day to an overwhelming need to feel wanted.

How stupid are we to give up love for the prospect of love? I long for her explosive tendencies that gave my life a twisted form of direction; a bear to dance around, but never poke. We were broken but walking on egg shells at least gave my days a purpose.

I don’t believe she ever truly cared for or respected me but the only thing that has changed from me leaving is now I have no hope of that ever happening. Here I stand the brave one that had the courage to leave but at what cost?

Is emptiness better? Is envy better? Is Jealousy? Is loneliness? I’d trade them all just to care about someone enough that they could hurt me.