You meet
someone new. You get along.
Somewhere
along the way, you fall in love. You don’t always know what triggers it: a
favorite song, a poem they share, a book they like.
You think
it’s too good to be true. And it is. They get mad at you, even if you don’t immediately
know what caused it.
If you’re
lucky, they talk to you again. You get to know them more.
You start
seeing the cracks. You have a list of people you’ll never date. You make an
exception.
They get angry,
again. You’re both too different:
You’re
brutally honest, logical, persistent.
They’re
sensitive, moody, evasive.
They hurt
you, because you care. You hurt them, because your words strike true.
You want to
solve the problem. They don’t want to talk about it.
You learn
patience, when you yearn for compromise. They learn forgiveness, when they
yearn for acceptance.
You cope by
crying yourself to sleep, writing letters that never get read, and rereading
the scant words they left.
You get more
chances than you deserve but you squander it by conveying how much you’ve been
hurt.
You realize too
late that to save the friendship, you need to shut up, swallow your pride, and
sacrifice your heart.
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